


A Wizard Among Bats

by somefantasytosurvivereality



Series: Mary Dursley Grayson [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bruce adopts all the orphans, Crossover, Dick is ultimate big bro, Dursley's are dicks, Family, Fluff, Found Families, Fuck DC canon, Gen, Harry is in his angsty stage, Harry is kind of confused, Timeline is complicated, What is DC canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4953046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somefantasytosurvivereality/pseuds/somefantasytosurvivereality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry comes back to Privet Drive after another tiring year of school, but there is another unexpected guest there. It turns out Vernon Dursley has a nephew as well, and 19 year old Dick Grayson seems to be nothing like the Dursleys that Harry has grown to hate. Maybe this Summer will be a little bit better with some company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So this was just an idea. Takes place in earth 16, the Young Justice cartoon, for the batfam, with some of my own assumptions about the timeline. This is just after Goblet of fire for Harry. Enjoy!

Harry was exhausted. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since Cedric was killed, it was just so hard to close his eyes. What happened in the graveyard was horrendous and awful, but somehow nightmares managed to make it even worse. They twisted everything and left him even more tired than when he went to sleep. Somehow he didn’t think Summer at the Dursley’s would be any better than Hogwarts, yet he was on his way back to Surrey with his uncle, just like every Summer before this one.

Harry’s green eyes stared out the passenger side window without seeing, he didn’t even register the suspicious and annoyed glances his uncle kept flashing him from the driver's side. He was impervious to the tension in the air and failed to register the moments when his uncle opened his mouth, then closed it hastily.

The boy was so out of it, he did not even seem to notice when the car had stopped and been turned off. Vernon cleared his throat, but that gained no reaction from the teen. Rolling his eyes, the man popped the trunk and got out of the car. The slamming of the driver’s side door jarred Harry from his contemplation with a jerk. Harry’s eyes followed his uncle as the man made his way into the house without offering any help with the heavy trunk in the back. 

Sighing, Harry opened his door, slamming it a little more aggressively than necessary on his way to the back. He came up with a dilemma as soon as he reached it. The trunk was pretty heavy, and Uncle Vernon had helped him heft it in so they could leave Kings Cross, and the wizards there, as fast as possible. But now there was no one to help him get it out, as Harry doubted his uncle would be willing to help a second time. He stared at the trunk for a couple seconds, hoping maybe somehow it would get lighter. He fingered the wand in his pocket, but a lighter trunk probably wasn’t worth the expulsion he was sure to get for doing magic in the middle of Privet Drive. Just as he was debating the pros and cons of expulsion or asking the Dursleys for help, a hand cut into his vision, waving back and forth to get his attention.

The tan hand was enough to jolt Harry again, and he realized the person connected to the hand was speaking. 

“Hey, you okay, dude? Do you need some help with your stuff?” The accent was American, and that was enough of a surprise to make Harry look up. Nothing was ever abnormal on Privet Drive, and someone talking to him, especially an American, was definitely abnormal. 

“Yeah,” Harry got out, still not moving to grab the trunk. “Thanks.” 

“So, you must be Harry?” The stranger enquired. He was leaning a hip against Vernon’s car carelessly. He was a little older than Harry. His blue eyes gave Harry a once over, probably taking in the scruffy clothes and the deep bags under his eyes, Harry assumed. This appraisal caused Harry to self-consciously fix the hair over his scar, which, of course, drew the stranger's eyes to Harry’s forehead. 

“Yeah,” Harry answered after a second. The stranger looked nice enough. His smile was wide and genuine, despite Harry’s lack of participation in the conversation. He also seemed to dismiss the scar as soon as he saw it, which no magical person ever did. “Who’re you?”

“Richard Grayson, but call me Dick,” he stuck his hand out, and Harry took it cautiously. Dick had a firm handshake, but he let go pretty fast and made to get the trunk. “So, we better get this inside. It’s almost dinner time, let’s hope Aunt Petunia made something good.” 

Dick laughed at his own comment and bumped Harry’s shoulder with his own good naturedly, as if they were sharing a good joke. But Harry was sort of extremely confused and took a step away from the car, and from Dick. 

“Aunt Petunia?” Harry squeaked out, because what the hell was going on.

Dick’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and his smile wilted. “Did Uncle Vernon not tell you about me? You guys had a long car ride, I kind of assumed he’d mention it. I mean, he isn’t the most talkative when it comes to things not about his work or his car, but I assumed he’d mention finding a long lost nephew.”

Harry had no idea how to politely explain to the man he had just met that Vernon Dursley would probably rather eat his own shoe than talk to Harry, nevermind actually tell him anything important. But Dick seemed to take his silence as agreement.

“Well, I guess it makes sense with how little they talk about you,” Dick continued thoughtfully, and while the ghost of a smile was still there his tone grew more distant. “I didn’t even know you lived here till this morning.”

Dick smiled again as he reached for one of the trunk’s handles. “Well, I’m Dick, kind of a long lost nephew, but I can tell you about it later. Why don’t we get your stuff upstairs?”

Harry nodded, still kind of dazed from everything going on, and he grabbed the other handle and lifted. Using his free hand, Harry grabbed Hedwig’s cage, where she was sleeping, and Dick did a double take.

“Is that an owl?” He asked curiously, and Harry was reminded that this was a muggle and that muggles don’t see owls everyday.

“Yeah she is,” Harry answered shortly, knowing how much Uncle Vernon despised her. Dick had seemed all right so far, but anyone who claimed relation to the Dursley’s had to have something wrong with them.

“She’s beautiful,” Dick said honestly, and Harry thought that maybe he was being too hard on Dick. After all, he himself was related to the Dursleys.

“Thanks,” Harry actually felt some real warmth in his voice and Dick felt it too, if his answering smile was any indication. Harry was feeling the weight of the trunk in his other arm and lifted it slightly to remind Dick they were bringing it somewhere. “But can we move, it’s heavy?” 

Dick nodded and, slamming the trunk closed, he lead the way into the house, and up the stairs. Harry felt bad because it certainly felt like Dick was carrying most of the weight, but he seemed to have more muscle mass, so it must have evened out. 

“I’m assuming this is your room, since it’s the only one not being used?” Dick stopped in front of the door to Dudley’s second bedroom, no, Harry’s room. Harry noticed that the locks on the outside had been removed and assumed it was for the benefit of their guest.

“Yeah, it is.”

Dick opened the door with his free hand and shouldered his way inside. They left the trunk on the floor and Harry carefully put Hedwig’s cage on the dresser where she normally perched. Dick was stretching out his back with his hands in the air. Harry noticed how his sad, barren room was being observed. It was empty in a way that most lived in rooms weren’t. There was nothing on the walls, no knickknacks lying around. Just an empty space where Harry stayed over the summer. 

“I kinda assumed you had a cat, or a dog, in the cage, because of the cat flap, but I guess an owl could use it,” Dick mused as he finished stretching.

“It wasn’t for her,” Harry said shortly, not wanting to explain the gritty and painful details on why it was there. He debated opening up his trunk to get Hedwig’s food, but realized he didn’t know what was on top and couldn’t risk letting the muggle see any magical artifacts. “So, why are you here?”

“Why are any of us really here?” Dick asked with a grin, as he plopped into Harry’s desk chair, without asking. At Harry’s frown and crossed arms, Dick raised his hands placatingly. “Kidding, kidding.” He frowned. “You might want to sit down, kiddo, it isn’t a fun story.”

Harry remained standing, stubbornly looking down on him. And he had no idea what urged him to say it, but the moment Harry opened his mouth he couldn’t stop all his bitterness from everything that had happened in the past year, no his whole life, coming out. It felt good.

“What, did your parents die too?”

The moment the words left his lips, before he even really noticed the negative impact they had on the other, he regretted them. But when Harry noticed Dick stiffen, the grin falling off his pretty face, Harry felt even more miserable than he had before.

“Yeah, actually. They did,” Dick answered softly.

Harry feels his legs start to shake and moisture wells up behind his eyes, so he falls back to sit on his bed with his elbows on his knees and the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. His brain was having trouble processing what he had said, and Harry was horrified that he could have said such a thing. His parents would be so ashamed. He could see Hermione’s disapproving look, and Ron’s incredulous stare. Dumbledore would be so ashamed. He was a failure and everyone he cared about died, and now he was taking it out on someone else and he was a horrible person.

“Sorry. I’m so… I don’t… I’m… sorry… I didn’t … mean that” Harry took a deep breath and pressed harder into his eyes to stop any moisture. After a few seconds of breathing Harry felt composed enough to form a sentence. “You should go. I’m sorry.”

He must not have been composed enough since his voice came out as a whisper. It must have been loud enough that Dick heard it because the chair creaked as Dick got up. But the bed dipped down as Dick sat next to Harry and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Rubbing up and down his back as Harry broke down. 

“Just let it out, Harry. It’s alright. I forgive you. I know you didn’t mean it, Harry,” Dick kept his arm around Harry’s back as he let Harry cry it out. They sat like that for a few minutes, Harry quietly letting his sadness out and Dick quietly repeating his soothing words. When it had been a couple of silent minutes on Harry’s end, Dick trailed off.

“Feeling better?” Dick asked quietly, politely looking away from Harry as he wiped his tears and snot on a his own shirt sleeve.

Harry thought about it for a second. He didn’t feel great, the horror of Cedric’s death was still there, the sadness that surrounded his parents was there, and the guilt of both was there, but it wasn’t as pressing, as heavy, as it had been. 

“Yeah, a bit,” suddenly Harry’s cheeks flushed when Dick looked back down at him. Crying in front of an almost stranger, even one that was so nice about it, was always embarrassing. “Uh, thanks.”

Dick smiled warmly, and squeezed his arm. “You’re welcome.” 

Harry wiped his eyes again. He knew they were red and puffy, but he couldn’t really do much else to fix it. 

“Sit tight for a sec.” With one last squeeze Dick got up and left the room. Harry rubbed harder at his eyes to make the redness go away. Suddenly, a blanket fell around Harry’s shoulders and his hands were pulled gently away from his face by Dick’s tan ones. Dick placed his hands down and started to rub a wet cloth over Harry’s face. 

“Sorry, if this is weird. My little brother used to get like this, and this was how I helped him,” Dick explained, as the cool water helped sooth Harry’s face. “He didn’t like it if people knew he was crying, and he said the cold water helped.”

Dick sat back on his heels and surveyed his work. Harry’s eyes were still red, but it was duller than before. He nodded. “I’ll go put this back, then we can talk more.” 

Harry’s eyes followed the other as he left the room quietly. Dick came back in a minute later, sans cloth, and sat back down on the chair across from Harry. They shared a minute of silence where Dick was looking at Harry, and Harry was looking anywhere but at Dick. The blank walls suddenly became very interesting.

“So,” Dick started, after a minute. Harry stiffened, not wanting to dwell on the breakdown he just had. Not wanting to explain what caused it. “I’m not really related to you, I don’t think. My mom was Vernon’s sister, and Marge’s, if you’ve met her.” He paused as if allowing Harry to stop him, but Harry nodded hesitantly for him to go on. He was interested in why Dick was here, and it was better than talking about his own life. 

“Well, my mom, Mary, didn’t like them very much, so when she met my dad, who worked at a circus, they eloped. I never even knew my mom’s maiden name before I looked more into it. Anyway, my dad’s family were acrobats, The Flying Graysons. So, she joined, they had me, and everything was great.” Dick’s eyes were focused on the wall behind Harry’s head, but Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of him. “And yeah, when I was nine, they were murdered. My parents, my aunt, and my cousin were all killed. I have an uncle, but they don’t think he is ever going to come out of his coma, never mind take care of me. ” Harry ducked his head, ashamed of his earlier words, and Dick offered a bitter smile. “But, I was warded by a man named Bruce, and he’s great. He’s practically a second father to me, but I know he would never want to take my father’s place.”

Harry looked back up. “You said you had a brother?” He mumbled to Dick.

Dick smiled and it looked so sad Harry wished he could take it back. Before he could, Dick continued to talk.

“Yeah, two actually. Jason, he would be 16 right now, but he died two years ago. He was great. A little angry and scared sometimes, but he had a good heart. Bruce adopted him a couple years ago. Tim’s my baby brother, although he doesn’t like it when I call him that, and it isn’t technically true yet.” At Harry’s confused expression, Dick explained. “Tim’s still alive, his mother is gone, and his dad is in a coma, and he’s been staying with us. But his family wasn’t too great before that, so Bruce is trying to adopt him in case his dad gets better.”

Harry took a moment to digest this. Having brother’s sounded nice. He knew Ron wouldn’t agree, but if a brother was someone who you could have a breakdown with and have them help you, that sounded pretty great. But something still didn’t make sense.

“Why are you here then?” Harry asked, and when Dick’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, Harry elaborated. “Why aren’t you with them? Bruce? And Tim?”

“Ah, well Bruce has been warding me for a while, and he’s like a father to me, so we were talking about adoption, and that opened my case file again. People were looking into my background. They found my mother’s maiden name, and I wanted to spend some time with my relatives for bit. I got here a couple days ago when Bruce passed through on a business trip. I’m going back home at the end of June probably.”

Harry tried not to look disappointed by this news. He didn’t even know Dick that well, and he wanted him to stay, his family probably missed him a lot more. 

“Dinner’s ready!” Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by Aunt Petunia warmly calling up the stairs. He was shocked, because he knew Dudley was downstairs watching his favorite evening night tv show, so there was no way she was calling for him. 

Dick didn’t seem to think anything was amiss as he go up from the chair, offering a hand out to Harry as he did so. Harry took it, and Dick hauled him up. Dick took Harry’s face in his hands and examined it for a second. “I doubt they’ll notice anything, let’s head down.”

Harry followed him downstairs and sat down in a dazed state. It wasn’t that the Dursleys had starved him lately, but family dinner was not something the freak cousin was invited to. However, there were five places at the table and Aunt Petunia smiled like she had not ignored that he had been home for over an hour already. Dick’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything about it as he sat beside Harry. Dudley and Vernon were already at their seats, digging into their plates that were piled high.

“Everything looks really great, Aunt Petunia,” Dick said, courteously. And he was right. The roast, mash potatoes and carrots were elaborately styled and smelled delicious. Petunia was not a bad cook by any means, but Harry had rarely seen her go this far unless Vernon had work friends over. 

“Oh, thank you, Richard,” Petunia simpered. “I’m sure it isn’t quite what you’re used to, but I did the best with what I had.”

Harry was confused, but also kind of exhausted and hungry from everything, so he tuned out Dick and Petunia’s polite conversation and followed Vernon and Dudley’s example of only paying attention to the food. He only really tuned back into conversation when he realized his plate was empty. He looked up, planning on getting seconds like he would in the Great Hall, but a sharp look from Petunia, mirrored by an annoyed grunt from Vernon, caused his hand to detour from the carrots he was going for, to his glass to pretend he was going for a drink the whole time.

Suddenly, the mashed potato bowl was shoved into his hand by Dick, who had apparently just taken some more and was innocently passing them to the next person at the table. Dick seemed to be focused in telling an elaborate story to Petunia and Vernon, but paused to acknowledge Harry briefly.

“And, so Bruce was completely confused since he couldn’t find any of his socks-- oh here Harry I was just taking some and your plate’s empty-- so then he assumes I hid them in the empty part of the manor, because that’s the easiest place to hide them. Then, after days of tearing the most of the third floor apart, one of his friends, a reporter actually, comes over and looks up in the foyer and goes ‘Bruce I knew you were weird, but why are all your socks on the chandelier?’ I had to clean all his cars for a month, but it was so worth it.” Dick grinned and Vernon laughed uproariously and Petunia laughed behind her hand. They failed to notice Harry taking seconds of everything as Dick took some and passed the bowls to Harry.

“But why would you do that? You got in trouble.” Dudley asked, with his eyebrows drawn together in his signature thinking and in pain because of it face.

Dick laughed. “Oh, if I didn’t do things that would get me in trouble once in a while, I would live a very boring life. Plus Bruce thought it was funny too, but parents gotta enforce rules or who will?” Dick pointed out innocently as he cut his roast. 

Dudley looked more confused than normal, perhaps contemplating his own parents, but Dick changed the subject again. “So, Dudley, you said you would tell me all about your wrestling career.”

Vernon interrupted before Dudley could talk, but Dudley seemed content with this as he ate more food. “Oh, yes. Dudders is number one in his school at the moment, and his coach thinks he could be number one in the country with a little more coaching. Why just last week…”

Harry tuned out Vernon’s boasting, focusing back on the food. He only started listening again when Dudley complained loudly that he was going to miss another TV show if he didn’t go right now. Everyone took this as time to end dinner.

“Well, this was a very nice dinner, but I’m going to start cleaning up,” Petunia said as she started to get up. Dudley and Vernon both got up and moved to the living room, while Harry quickly finished eating what was left on his plate. Dick started to stack the plates, attempting to help Petunia. “Oh, no Richard, it’s fine, I can handle it.”

“But I would love to help,” Dick said, as he moved past her to put the dishes in the sink. She pursed her lips, but accepted his help.

“Why don’t you bring the plates in then and I’ll wash.” She made her way over to the sink and pulled on the rubber gloves she wore when cleaning.

“Sounds good, Aunt Petunia,” Dick called over his shoulder. As he picked up Harry’s plate, Dick leaned down to speak quietly in his ear. “Why don’t you head up? You look like you could use an early night.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. Dick smiled and made to bring the dishes to the sink, but Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. “No, really. Thanks, for everything.” 

Dick looked thoughtful again. “Anytime, kiddo. Seriously, anytime. Now go to sleep, the bags under your eyes are huge.”

Harry nodded and was hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion now that it was pointed out. He got up as Dick made his way over to Petunia. Harry paused at the door when he heard Petunia mention him. 

“Where did that boy get off to?” He prepared himself to get called back to deal with the mess from dinner.

“Harry?” Dick clarified.

“Of course, he always helps clean up when he’s home,” she sniffed indignantly, and Harry almost laughed out loud at the use of the word helps. As if she did any of the work when he was home.

“Oh, I told him to him to head up to bed, since he looked exhausted.” He paused. When she didn’t say anything he continued. “Probably from all the traveling, I know that makes me tired. Oh, did I tell you about the time Bruce and I accidently went to Indonesia?”

“No, Richard, but I would love to hear it.” Harry, satisfied that he would not be missed, made his way up the stairs, passing Vernon and Dudley glued to the TV in the living room. 

After getting to his room, he opened his trunk and shuffled through until he found his toothbrush and toothpaste as well as his PJs. He slid into bed five minutes later and closed his eyes thinking this summer could be a lot better if Dick Grayson was there with him.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluffy stuff

__

_It was dark. And cold. And Harry recognized the graveyard around him and the grave he was attached to. He struggled to get out of the statue’s grip, but it was no use. The more he struggled the tighter the grip around him became, but he couldn’t just give up._

_Suddenly, a face was above him, Cedric’s face. Scared and terrified. “Harry, you have to get out, you have to help me,” Cedric’s voice pleaded._

_“I can’t!” Harry yelled, as he struggled harder, making himself bleed with how hard he was pulling against the bonds._

_His parents were in front of him now. Almost see-through, wearing blank expressions. Harry found it hard to focus on them. “Come on Harry, you can get out of this, you fought a dragon, you can do this.”_

_“No! I can’t! I just can’t!” Harry screamed back, and he couldn't tell if it was blood or tears in his eyes._

_“Of course you can’t,” Voldemort's voice echoed around him, accompanied by a painful throb in his forehead. Harry could feel his disgusting finger on his scar, making the pain increase. The pressure built and built as Harry kept hoping he would move his finger away, hoping someone could relieve him of the pain.  
_  
Harry screamed as he shot up into a sitting position in his bed. His blankets were tangled around his legs, the pillow damp from his sweat, and he was panting for breath. He heard Uncle Vernon’s angry shout at him to quiet down because some people were trying to bloody sleep. And he heard the thunk of, what he assumed was, Dudley’s new high tech alarm clock as he threw it against their adjoining wall. 

He knew he was breathing too fast, all the sounds seemed to be coming from far away, as if through a long tunnel. His hands were clenching at his hair, pulling to use that pain to distract from the pain in his head. An owl hooted from far away. Dimly, Harry registered the sound of his bedroom door opening, but ignored it in the hope whoever was at the door will ignore him.

A voice was talking quietly from far away, but Harry pulled harder on his hair, and the heavy sound of this breathing made is hard to hear anything anyway. He can still feel the cold horrible finger on his head and hear the echo of a high snake-like voice. He closed his eyes tight in the hope that it all will just go away. 

Suddenly there was a weight on Harry's legs. Hands, gentle warm hands, are prying Harry's fingers from his hair. A voice, soft and soothing, is speaking to him in hushed tones. Harry let his hands be lead away from his hair and into his lap, where his fisted them tightly into the t-shirt he's wearing. The warm hands come back and cup Harry's face and he opened his eyes. 

Dick Grayson's bright blue eyes were staring into his ow. Dick's lips were moving, Harry attempted to focus on the words coming out of his mouth.

"You're safe, Harry. It's alright now. Just breath. Harry, you are okay. Breath, Harry. It's safe here. You are all right." Harry absently wondered how long Dick has been talking, but he took a slow deep breath, and Dick's encouragements continue, praising Harry for his renewed effort in breathing and continuing to remind him of where he was. Dick's thumbs were stroking over Harry's cheeks in a comfortingly repetitive motion. 

Harry wasn't sure how long they were like that, with Dick balanced over his legs and helping him calm down. Eventually, Harry's breathing is regular and his hands loosen from the death grip on his t-shirt. Dick's words trailed off, and his thumbs stilled. 

"You okay?" Dick asked seriously, and Harry felt himself laugh a little because clearly he was not okay. Okay people didn't wake up screaming. Okay people didn't need to be talked into breathing right. Clearly he was not okay. Dick smiled, like he understood what Harry was thinking.

"Yeah it's a stupid question, huh?" Dick answered his own question with a soft smile. "Wanna talk about it?" Dick asked. Harry shook his head, and was thankful that Dick let it drop. He gave a final pat to Harry's cheeks before making his way off the bed. He turned back to Harry with his hand out. "Come on, get up." 

Harry looked at him in confusion without moving. He suddenly felt a wave of tiredness creep up on him now that he was calm, and moving didn't seem like a good idea. "What?"

Dick put his outstretched hand on Harry's shoulder. "You don't want to stay in that c'mon." Harry realized that in his sleep he had sweated through his PJs, making them and his sheets damp. 

"Yeah, I'll just change my sheets and stuff," Harry said as he untangled his legs from the sheets. 

"Don't be ridiculous," Dick scoffed, pulling Harry up. "It's late, that will take time. Why don't you just change and come to my room?"

Harry was a bit unsteady on his feet and leaned into Dick's hand. "Where will you sleep?"

"That bed's a queen, we'll both fit," Dick answered, shrugging easily. He reached down to Harry's trunk, which was still packed on the floor, to grab Harry a change of clothes. Harry, still tired and unsteady, didn't react in time to stop Dick from opening it. Harry couldn't remember if anything incriminating was on top, so he woke up enough to realize that he should probably not let a muggle go through his stuff. 

"I can do that," he hurried to say as he knelt in front of his trunk. Dick got up without a fuss and Harry assumed he hadn't seen anything strange since he didn't ask.

"Awesome, why don't you go into the bathroom and wash up, I'll strip your bed. We can wash the stuff in the morning," Dick suggested, as he got to work. Harry nodded, sifted quickly through the mess in his trunk, and grabbed his stuff. Shutting his trunk carefully, Harry made his way out of his room. He opened the door cautiously, listening to make sure no Dursleys were awake, and made his way to the bathroom. Quickly Stripping out of his damp clothes, Harry changed fast into another one of his oversize t-shirts and baggy pants, courtesy of Dudley. 

Harry grabbed a washcloth and got it wet in the sink. Wringing out the excess water, Harry looked into the mirror. The bags under his eyes were just as pronounced as they were earlier. He didn't even know how long he had slept. It must have been really late, or really early. He couldn't believe Dick got up to help him. It was so weird.

Remembering the washcloth, Harry quickly towelled off his face and behind his neck. He put it on a drying rack to deal with later and balled up his old clothes to head back to his room. Tiptoeing through the hall to avoid the Dursleys again, he made his way back to his room, where he heard Dick's voice quietly through the door. 

"I think he'll be okay, girl," Came Dick's voice. "He just needs some help, that's all."

Curious, and not awake enough to even guess at what was happening, Harry opened the door softly. Dick turned around at his entrance and smiled, but his hand was still stroking over Hedwig's feathers. She looked content under his fingers, and would probably be purring if she could. 

"I think she was worried about you," Dick whispered. "She a good bird. What's her name?"

"Hedwig," Harry said. She didn't normally like strangers, and Harry had never seen her ever like a muggle.

"That's a nice name," Dick answered. He picked up her cage in one hand and gestured for Harry to come with him with the other. "She should come too. I think she'd like that."

Dick left the room without giving Harry time to agree or disagree, leaving Harry with nothing to do but follow. Sneaking back to the hallway, he made it to the guest room, Dick's room, without any trouble. 

The guest room was a strange place for Harry. He hadn't really even been in except to make up the bed or do some vacuuming. The only person who had ever stayed there, besides Dick, was Marge, or Aunt Marge as Harry was forced to call her, despite not being related. Harry was reminded that Marge, a horrible woman who cared about her dogs more than Harry, was actually related to Dick. He wasn't sure how Dick, who helped him through a nightmare, could even be thought of being related to a woman who had let her dog chase him up a tree. Harry couldn't wrap his head around it.

This room, despite not having a permanent occupant, looked much more lived in then Harry's. Dick had put up some pictures on the nightstand of people that he assumed were the family Dick had. There was a framed poster on the wall, a brightly colored thing describing the flying Graysons, that Harry was positive that was Dick's, and that the Dursley's would not approve of. It seemed like Dick was living out of a suitcase still, not wanting to seem too homey. 

Dick had placed Hedwig's cage on the dresser, and the owl gave Harry a piercing look that reminded him how intelligent she was. She seemed content with what she saw, since she put her head under her wing to go back to sleep.

Dick was on the side of the bed furthest from Harry, and patted the other side. "Come on, you need more sleep."

Harry caught sight of the bedside clock and saw it was 3:30 am. Making his way over, Harry thought about how weird it was that Dick woke up at such an ungodly hour to help him. Looking at the clock had reminded him how tired he was. Sliding into the bed, with its thick covers, Harry barely mumbled out a thank you before he fell asleep again.


	3. Morning

Harry was woken by a soft buzzing noise. In his groggy state, he couldn't remember where he was or why he was in an unfamiliar place. Then it came back that he was in the guest room, where Dick was staying, in Privet Drive. He was surprised that he hadn’t had any more dreams since going to sleep.

"Hey, go back to sleep," Dick whispered to him. And Harry could hear the rustling as Dick made his way out of bed. "That was just my alarm. I’ve been going for runs in the mornings. I'll be back in about an hour." 

Harry nodded, still groggy, and he looked at the clock. Seeing that it read six am, he decided he really didn’t need to be awake right now. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

\---

When Harry next woke up, it was a slow gradual waking. The kind that he had at Hogwarts on the weekends when he had the whole afternoon to worry about how far behind in school work he was. He allowed himself to take a couple minutes where he just laid there, basking in the comfy bed and the warmth of the covers. Finally, he convinced himself that he should get up, it was probably past eight, and he liked to be out of the house before Dudley was up around ten. Rolling over to look at the clock, Harry was struck by how well rested he felt. He hadn’t felt like this since Cedric. No, probably since his name came out of that damned cup. 

Eleven am. 

Harry had slept over twelve hours last night. Admittedly, the first few had been restless and full of nightmares, but he hadn’t dreamed at all since coming into the guest bedroom around three last night. Harry flopped back onto his back in the middle of the bed. That had been a really restful night.

An annoyed hoot pulled Harry from his relaxation. Hedwig was glaring angrily at him from her perch above him on the headboard. Harry blinked in confusion. Hedwig was not allowed around the house unless she was in her cage, and Uncle Vernon only allowed that grudgingly. But, there she was, perched on the headboard above him, glaring down at him with her bright eyes. Now that he was awake, she seemed to have no qualms about clicking her beak to encourage him to get up.

“Relax, I’m getting up,” Harry mumbled as he did so. “I’m sure you’re hungry, girl.” 

Harry noticed how the window was open and how there was a nice breeze coming through. He got out of the bed and made his way over to Hedwig’s cage. There was a note in front of it in a fastly scrawled hand. 

Sorry, I didn’t know if you kept food or if she was supposed to be let out to hunt. So, I let her out in case she needed to leave, but she seemed to just want to be closer to you! Hope she doesn’t wake you up!

-Dick

P.S. I’m gonna be at the park if you wanna hang.

Harry smiled, it felt like it was something he hadn’t done in a while. “Were you worried about me, girl?” He asked as he stroked over his head. She turned her beak up at him, as if to say of course not. But, her disdain was ignored as she pressed her feathers more into his gentle fingers. Harry folded the note and carefully put it into his pocket. He convinced Hedwig to go back into the cage, because if he was seen in the hallway with her just on his arm, he would be in serious trouble.

She put up quite a fight, but eventually was coaxed back in. Harry made his way quickly through the hallway, back into his own bedroom. Going through his trunk quickly, Harry found some of Hedwig’s food and gave her some. 

That done, Harry went back to his trunk to get dressed for the day. His trunk was such a mess it took him some trouble. His wand was on top as well as some clearly magical textbooks, and Harry was momentarily reminded that Dick had dug through his stuff for a couple seconds last night. It must have been too dark for Dick to read the titles, Harry pointed out to himself. And Harry himself could have easily accidentally put them on top when he was digging for clothes at three in the morning. Dick would have asked about it.

Reassured, Harry finished getting dressed. Hedwig had finished her food and was going back to sleep. She was keeping weird hours for a nocturnal bird.

Making his way downstairs and contemplating grabbing a quick breakfast, Harry stopped on the staircase when he heard voices coming from the kitchen.

“Honestly, Pet,” Vernon was saying. It was a sunday, so Vernon being home wasn’t unusual, and it was lunch time, so it wasn’t an odd time for his uncle and aunt to be in the kitchen, but the topic they were discussing was interesting. “How long do we need to keep this circus freak in our house? There is a reason Marge hasn’t wanted to see him. There is a reason we have never wanted contact with our good for nothing sister. She wasn’t like us, she left on her own, she knew what she was leaving, and I damn well don’t want her orphaned brat wandering around my home like he owns the place.”

Harry knew there was only one person they could be talking about.

“Vernon, you know who his father is,” Petunia soothed, and Harry could hear her bustling around.

“Yes,” Vernon shot back angrily, his voice grew louder as he continued. “His father was a good for nothing gypsy who seduced my fool of a little sister into his bed and out of our lives.”

“Shhh,” Petunia hushed, and Harry heard a window close before she continued. However, her voice was still hushed enough that Harry had to strain to hear her. “Well, he’s dead.” Her callous tone about Dick’s father made Harry flinch. “And right now that boy gets anything and everything he wants from Bruce Wayne.”

Harry recognized the name of the man that Dick said was like a father to him. Dick had said Bruce was going to formally adopt him, so obviously they meant a lot to each other. Petunia continued.

“The same Bruce Wayne that was rated the eighth richest man in the world last year. The same Bruce Wayne who legally made Richard his heir years ago. The same Bruce Wayne who is formally adopting Richard to make sure that boy gets his inheritance when it is due,” Petunia stated to Vernon. Harry felt his breath catch. 

The only experience Harry had with people with more money than anyone needed was with his long time rival, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was a pureblood wizard, with a father in a high ranking position in the wizarding government. He always had the best of everything and wasn’t afraid to throw the money around to get himself things. He had bought the entire Slytherin Quidditch team new brooms just to get a place on his house team. Harry himself had a small fortune from his parents, but he would never use it like that. He had even given away his small fortune of winnings from the Tri Wizard Tournament to Fred and George Weasley, people who actually deserved it. Dick had seemed really nice. But, words like heir and inheritance did not put him in a good light.

Harry tuned back into the elder Dursley’s conversation. “But, Pet, dear,” Vernon was saying. “It’s unlikely that he is the sole heir. You, yourself, told me about the football team worth of children the magazines say Wayne is adopting.”

Petunia sighed with the air of someone explaining something very simply. “Vernon, the street rat boy Wayne adopted is dead. The other boy is already the heir to the Drake fortune, what would he do with Wayne’s money? Richard is the sole heir if Wayne dies. Besides, even if Wayne doesn’t go anytime soon, he seemed very open to helping with finances when Richard visits. He even mentioned flying us over to the states to see them! On a private jet. A private jet, Vernon!”

At Petunia’s harsh words regarding Dick’s family, Harry felt ashamed of himself. He almost forgot that the Dursleys ruined everything. Dick had been so kind to him. So open to him. And he almost let the Dursley’s twisted facts turn him against Dick. Getting up quickly, Harry creeped his way down the stairs and out the door before he could hear anything else. The Dursley’s were putting up with Dick in the hope of getting money. They were his only living family, and they wanted money from him. Apparently, Dick’s own Aunt didn’t even want to see him. It made sense why Marge, didn’t like Harry, they weren’t actually related, but Dick was Marge’s sister’s child. That was awful.

Harry completely forgot about food in his haste to get out of the house. Dick was so nice. Definitely one of the nicest people Harry had ever met. Harry didn’t understand at all how someone as nice as Dick could come from such awful people as the Dursleys. 

Making his way down the street, Harry totally forgot that Dick said he would be in the park until he caught sight of him. Dick was surrounded by kids, looking to all be less than ten. He seemed to be teaching them to do a handstand. Harry froze in the street. The neighborhood children didn’t play in this park, especially not in the Summer. This park was where Dudley and his gang go to beat up the kids who are stupid enough to go there. The broken swings and other playground pieces were evidence of times when all the children were smart enough to stay away and Dudley’s gang had to take their anger out on the playground itself. It was weird to see it populated again. 

Dick was walking around on his hand, to the excitement of the kids. Some were sitting on the ground watching, seeming to have given up trying and just wanting to enjoy the show, but a few were wobbling unsteadily on their own hands. 

A couple of the kids caught sight of Harry coming up the road, and couldn’t seem to decided if they liked him or not, if their whispering and gesturing were anything to go by. On one hand, most people knew he lived with Dudley, but on the other, Dudley usually picked on Harry too. Harry wasn’t sure if he should approach the group based on the children’s wariness, but Dick had other plans.

“Hey, Harry! Come over here,” Dick called over, still upside down. The children, and Harry if he was being honest, were awed when Dick picked one hand off the ground to wave to Harry. Only having one hand to balance on didn’t seem to phase the man a bit, since he was just as stable with the one hand as on two. Two of the kids still attempting to intimate Dick fell over in their haste to copy him, but a little dark haired girl was still stubbornly remaining upside down. 

Harry waved back, and made his way over to the group. Dick let himself fall forward, and the kids screeched. But, he simply let himself fall into a roll and ended up sitting cross legged next to the little girl still upside down. The shock of having someone roll right next to her, made her fall over right on top of Dick.

“Oh, sorry Abbie!” Dick apologized as he helped her up. “I didn’t mean to startle you.You did a really good job.”

The little girl smiled at Dick as she stood back up. “I”m going to try again,” she informed him happily. A chorus of other voices agreed with her. By the time Harry reached the group, Dick was sitting in the middle as all the kids were in various stages of a handstand. He was offering encouragement and advice to each of them, and Harry wondered when he had time to learn all the kids names. Harry had lived here most of his life and had no idea who half of these kids were. 

“Can you do a handstand, Mister?” One of the kids asked Harry. The boy was one of the younger ones, and had already fallen on his butt from his latest attempt. Surprised at being addressed, Harry hesitated. Most of the neighborhood didn’t talk to him. The Dursleys spread lies about what a trouble making delinquent he was to the neighbors, and they tended to keep their children away from him. However, Harry supposed that the younger kids probably didn’t recognize him since he hadn’t been around all year. 

A bunch of the other kids were staring at him curiously now. Some of the eyes were upside down, but most of the kids were back on the ground again. “So, can you do a handstand, Harry?” Dick prompted after a moment of silence. 

Harry turned his thoughts away from the kids and thought about the question. “I don’t know,” Harry answered honestly.

Dick mock gasped and the children giggled at his exaggerated horrified expression. “You don’t know? Have you never done a handstand before?”

Harry thought about it for a second. “No, I don’t think so.”

Dick grinned and looked at the children, who were now all right-side up again. “Well, you guys better teach him,” he told them. The kids looked excited at this prospect and Harry felt some apprehension at the thought. “Since you’re all such experts now, I’m sure Harry will be a professional in no time.”

The kids all started offering advice and comments at once, most of them about how Harry should try not to fall down. Harry shot Dick an overwhelmed look at all the voices and Dick laughed.

“Come on it’s gonna be fun,” Dick promised, and he started directing the kids into talking one at a time.

An hour later, Harry was upside-down with both hands firmly on the ground. “I’m gonna let go now,” a little boy, Gordon Harry suddenly remembered, said to him. Gordon was ‘helping’ Dick hold Harry upright, so Harry wasn’t too worried about the little boy letting go. Although, Gordon seemed to consider himself one of the key reasons why Harry wasn’t falling on his butt. 

“Yup, you can let go Gordy, and we can ease Harry into doing it on his own,” Dick told the boy. Harry would bet that Dick was smiling, but Harry was a little bit busy with trying to stay upright. Dick wasn’t holding on too tightly, so Harry was trying to keep balanced on his own. His arm muscles burned from supporting all his weight. Usually, he was in better shape than this, but skipping a whole year of Quidditch did not do well for his physique. 

“I’m going to let go too, Harry,” Dick told him, and Harry braced himself. When Dick let go Harry stayed up for seven whole seconds on his own; a girl named Eliza helpfully counted out loud. As Harry hit the soft grass, he heard the children celebrating his success of staying upright on his own. Harry sat up with a grin, taking in the happiness around him. 

Dick flopped down next to him and nudged his shoulder playfully. “Looks like you’re an expert too now, Harry.” 

Harry smiled and basked in the moment of his success with the children cheering and trying to show him up around them. The moment was broken when Harry’s stomach growled loudly. Dick pushed himself off the ground and pulled Harry up with him. 

“Looks like it’s time for lunch, everyone,” Dick announced to the kids disappointment, but they all seemed to realize that they were pretty hungry, so they left quickly with a lot of thank yous and happy goodbyes. Dick waved bye to them as he started leading Harry away. Harry realized they were heading away from Privet Drive, and where food normally was.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked curiously as he walked beside Dick up the road.

“Let’s go to the pub a couple streets over,” Dick suggested as they continued their walk. Harry had passed that pub, The Dancing Tiger, many times when walking, but had never eaten there. “That house can be a bit…” Dick trailed off, and seemed to be looking for a polite, but accurate word. 

“Awful?” Harry suggested harshly. “It doesn’t take long to figure that out.”

“Yeah,” Dick answered, sounding troubled. “I didn’t know what to expect when I heard about living relatives, but it wasn’t that. I sort of hoped they would like me, you know?”

Harry was surprised that Dick had noticed the Dursley’s dislike. They seemed to be trying to get into his good books. But, Marge did refuse to see him, and that probably wasn’t easily explained away. 

Dick seemed to shake off his glum mood and swung an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure you aren’t glad you’re there, but I’m glad I’m not alone with them. So, tell me about your life at school, I’m sure it is better than here. Tell me about your friends and classes.”

Harry noticed that Dick didn’t mention the name of the school. He wasn’t sure if it was to save Harry the embarrassment of talking about St. Brutus’s or whatever the lie the Dursley’s were telling now, or if Dick knew Harry didn’t go there. Harry didn’t see any harm in talking about his friends, and maybe some of the classes and teachers as long as he lied about the subjects. So, he started to talk about how smart Hermione was and how nice Ron was, and how awful his long time rival Draco was. Dick laughed and talked about how Hermione seemed a lot like his long time friend Barbara. Dick talked about his friend Wally, who could apparently eat more than Ron, which Harry wasn’t sure he believed.

Harry and Dick were deep in conversation about their friends when they got to the pub. Sunday afternoon was not a busy time, so they were seated with menus almost immediately. When the nice and homey waitress came over and asked if they wanted something to drink, Harry caught himself before he said pumpkin juice and just murmured a quiet “Water.” Dick added another water, and the waitress smiled and nodded before heading off.

Harry took a moment from the conversation to look at the menu. He could count on one hand the number of times he had eaten out with someone else. When he was twelve, Harry had spent the last month of his Summer at a wizarding inn where he ate out everyday, but that was with his own money. Suddenly, it occurred to Harry that all the money he had was in wizarding currency. Somehow he didn’t think The Dancing TIger would accept a galleon. 

Dick, who had been telling a funny story about a visit to the zoo with his friends and a bad reaction to the monkeys from his friend Conner, trailed off when Harry put his menu down on the table a little harder than necessary. 

“What’s up?” Dick question from over his own menu. “Not seeing anything you like?”

“I don’t have any money,” Harry said quickly and quietly, ashamed at not having thought of this before.

“I didn’t think you did, Harry,” Dick said gently. “I invited you, so I’ll pay. You can order whatever.”

Harry picked up the menu slowly. “Are you sure?”

Dick smiled tightly. “Positive.” Harry went back to scanning the menu, focusing on the house salad, the cheapest item on the menu. Dick interrupted his thoughts. “I got the fish and chips a couple days ago when I came. It was good, you should try it.”

Harry looked at the price, and saw while it was not the most expensive, it definitely wasn’t the cheapest. However, not wanting to argue, Harry ordered it when the waitress came back over. Dick ordered the Shepard’s Pie, after having a short conversation with the waitress over the best item on the menu. 

After ordering, Dick turned to Harry with the intent of continuing their conversation. “So, you were saying how Hermione’s cat might be a demon in disguise?” Dick prompted. And Harry launched into a tale about how, even when they met the damn animal, it had been trying to kill them.


	4. Good Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was brought to you with some help from a friend :) Thanks Lara!!!!!!!!!!

Harry enjoyed the fish and chips he got. The meal was made even better since it wasn’t anywhere near the Dursleys. Dick had paid the check without complaint, and reassured Harry that it was alright multiple times. He even told Harry they would stop at the ice cream place next door for some desert. Harry knew he wasn’t a child that could be won over by a nice lunch and some ice cream, but it was extremely nice to have someone willing to do this for him.

Harry got a simple chocolate cone while Dick got a large something with a long name and a lot of toppings. Dick grinned at Harry’s strange look. “It’s really good,” Dick said through a mouth full. “Here try some.” He thrust the spoon towards Harry. It was good, Harry thought. Weird, but good.

They were sitting outside at a picnic table, enjoying the sun and nice weather. There were a lot of picnic tables, but they were at an isolated one, away from the excited families and laughing teenagers. The silence of their isolated table was broken by a phone ringing. Knowing it wasn’t his since he didn’t have one, Harry continued to eat his ice cream while the catchy pop song that was the ring tone played. Dick, however, stuck his spoon back in the bowl and fished in the pocket of his shorts. He checked the caller ID and smiled.

“I gotta take this, but it won’t take long,” Dick explained to Harry as he accepted the call. Harry expected him to get up, the Dursleys seemed to like to take their calls in private, but Dick stayed sitting, so Harry pretended to be paying more attention to his ice cream than to the conversation. 

“Hey B,” Dick said to the phone. Harry must not have done a good job paying attention to his ice cream because Dick mouthed ‘it’s Bruce’ at him, like he had a right to know. “I’m doing pretty good, just getting some ice cream.” Dick paused. “Of course it’s a small,” he said after a second. Harry eyed Dick’s large ice cream and the man winked. “I would never get an ‘excessive amount of toppings’, Bruce. I am a very health conscious individual. Alfred would be proud.” Harry could hear the quotes around the words and privately thought that gummy bears, hot fudge, chocolate chips, rainbow sprinkles, and cheerios of all things were pretty excessive. Harry seriously doubted whoever this Alfred person was would be proud. 

Dick continued pouting playfully. “What do you mean you don’t believe me? And besides, I’m nineteen, B, I think I can make my own decision when it comes to ice cream.” Dick paused. And moved the phone away from his mouth and mock whispered conspiringly to Harry, “Now he’s lecturing me about good life choices. Knows how to take the fun out of anything.” Harry forced a smile. He had never really had anyone lecture him like that. Teachers lectured sometimes, but that wasn’t really the same.

Dick laughed when he heard the voice on the other end say something. “No, I wasn’t talking to myself, I was talking to Harry.” Dick paused. “Yeah, we just went for lunch and are now eating some ice cream.” Harry was surprised that Bruce seemed to know who he was. Dick must have talked to him this morning or last night about it. It must be nice to have an adult to tell things too. Harry debated owling Ron and Hermione, or even Sirius, about the strange new relative he had, but he hadn’t really had a spare moment yet. Maybe he could do it tonight. 

“So you’re heading back to Gotham tomorrow?” Dick asked the phone while eating another spoonful of ice cream, making his words muffled.

Harry had learned earlier that the reason Dick came a couple days ago was that Bruce had some business around here, and, while he knew Dick talked about staying for a month, Harry suddenly had the irrational fear that Dick would leave tomorrow with his guardian. Dick swallowed his ice cream. “Nah, I’m going to stay for a little while longer,” Dick said to Bruce, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. 

Dick continued after what seemed like a prompt from Bruce. “No, I don’t think they like me any better, but I like Harry,” Dick told Bruce. Harry blushed at this declaration and Dick smiled at him. “You’d like him too,” Dick said, and Harry got the sense that Dick was talking to both of them. 

“You should stop by tomorrow on your way out, so you can see me and meet him,” Dick suggested, and Harry was a little overwhelmed at the thought of meeting Bruce Wayne. The same Bruce Wayne that was apparently in all of Aunt Petunia’s magazines. 

Dick grinned at Harry when Bruce replied. “Yeah, we’ll make sure that we meet far away from the Dursley household.” Harry smiled too. If they acted that fake around Dick, he couldn’t even imagine how they would act around Bruce. “Alright, see you tomorrow.” Dick paused. “Yeah, I’m gonna call Tim and Alfred a little later to let them know the plan,” Dick answered. Then rolled his eyes as if Bruce had said something exasperating. “Yeah, yeah, love you too. Bye.” 

Dick hung up the phone before digging into his ice cream again, it was starting to become a melted mess, rather than just the mess it was before. 

“So, Mr. Wayne is coming tomorrow,” Harry said curiously, licking his own neglected ice cream.

Dick swallowed his bite. “Yeah, Bruce, and you should call him Bruce, is gonna stop by. Maybe we can meet him here and get more ice cream,” Dick answered.

Harry frowned at the happiness in Dick’s tone. “But he didn’t like the ice cream you got.”

Dick scoffed. “Nah, it’s cool. B knows I usually eat pretty well when I’m home and I work out, so I can indulge every now and again. Maybe I can convince him to get something exciting.” Dick looked at Harry’s cone. “And you, too. You gotta live a little.”

Harry suddenly wished he could tell Dick about how much he had lived. He wished he could tell him about a magical castle and about flying on a broom and about fighting dragons. Harry had never understood Hermione’s excitement at sharing magic with her muggle family. His extended muggle family had always despised magic and any mention was a sure way to get himself punished. Everyone else Harry knew was already part of the Wizarding World. Harry debated the consequences of telling Dick about it. On one hand, muggles weren’t supposed to know about the wizarding world, but on the other, Dick was sort of Harry’s relative, and relatives were allowed to know. Plus how could the Ministry keep track if a muggle was told about magic if Harry didn’t actually do any magic. 

Harry paused. He met Dick yesterday. Sure, the guy was nice, but it had only been yesterday. He couldn’t tell Dick a lifelong secret based on a one day friendship. That’s something Hermione would consider extremely stupid.

“What’s with the long face?” Dick asked, as he ate the last spoonful of his ice cream. He continued talking with his mouth full. “You’re thinking too hard.”

“Sorry,” Harry responded. He had forgotten his ice cream again, but it was almost done, so he quickly finished it off. Dick was looking at him expectantly, so Harry continued. “I just miss school. Mostly my friends.”

Dick put his spoon down gently in the bowl and took a second to carefully wipe his face with a napkin. He crumpled it up delicately before putting it in the empty bowl too. Dick took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Yeah, I’ve heard Hogwarts can be nice.” 

Harry was glad he had finished his ice cream because his jaw dropped. 

“Ah, um… what?” Harry got out after realizing his mouth was getting dry just hanging open like that. 

“You go to Hogwarts, right? Witchcraft and wizardry? Magic wands? Spell books?” Dick asked curiously. He didn’t seem opposed to the idea of magic. He was just asking.

“Um, how? Did the Dursleys…?” Harry trailed off, not believing that the Dursleys would ever willingly talk about magic. Even Dudley, who wasn’t the brightest, knew better than to talk about it. Maybe they warned Dick about him? Maybe they had to tell him since he was staying in the house? But they never told Marge when she stayed. 

His thoughts were caught off by a laugh from Dick, he seemed to share Harry’s thought that the Dursleys telling him was absurd. “No, they didn’t tell me.” 

“So, how?” Harry got out when Dick’s laughing died down. Then, a horrible thought occurred to him. “Are you...? Do you have...?”

And suddenly it made sense. People never seemed to trust him alone, but he didn’t need to be watched by anyone. He had faced Voldemort multiple times and he was still okay. He didn’t need Dumbledore or anyone else babysitting him. He could handle himself. And maybe Dick’s company was better than being alone, but being alone was always better than being watched. Then being coddled and babied like he was an unruly child who couldn’t make his own decisions. 

“No,” Dick interrupted Harry’s thoughts. “I don’t have any magic.”

The words calmed Harry down. Harry remembered that Dick’s mother was actually related to the Dursleys and it was unlikely Dumbledore or anyone else knew about Dick before he did, so it was impossible Dick was watching him for them.

Dick continued before Harry could formulate another question. “I have a friend who practices magic, an ex actually but that’s a long story, so I asked her about it when I accidently saw your wand and books last night. She doesn’t practice the same kind of magic as you, apparently, but she recognized your name, and explained some things to me.” Dick stopped here looking at Harry questioningly. “Do the Dursley’s know?”

Harry was wondering exactly what things Dick’s friends explained to him, but he answered Dick’s question. “Yeah they know. They kinda hate magic, though. And me, in case you couldn’t tell.”

Dick snorted, and Harry got out a weak laugh too because anyone could tell that the Dursley’s disliked him. Their short burst of humor dulled into an awkward silence.

“Can I ask a painful question?” Dick asked slowly.

Harry nodded because he had already outed the entire Wizarding World, so how much worse could it get?

“Why do you live there? If they dislike you and magic?” Dick asked. Harry looked down at the table. He had asked himself this question so many times. The answer never really made sense.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered after a moment of deliberation. “I told my headmaster I didn’t want to come back, but he said I had to. One of my friends, Ron, offered to let me stay with him, and sometimes I stay there for part of the Summer, but never the whole time. I have a godfather I could have stayed with, but he’s sort of on the run for murdering a bunch of people. He’s innocent, by the way,” Harry rushed to defend Sirius at Dick’s horrified expression. “But that’s a long story. So, I have some people I could stay with, I guess, but for some reason I can’t, and no one tells me why because I’m a kid.”

Harry felt his voice grow bitter at the end. There must be a reason he had to keep coming here. Maybe the Wizarding World just didn’t want to deal with him for a couple of months. Maybe it was better he was out of the way. Whatever the reason was, Harry didn’t like it.

“That sucks,” Dick empathised. And, yeah, Harry thought, that pretty much summed up the whole situation.

They fell into a silence that was interrupted when a family with two small children sat at the table next to them. One of the kids was more interested in watching the clouds than in ice cream, but the other was happily getting it everywhere except their mouth. The parents, while looking a bit frazzled, seemed content to eat their own ice cream while reigning in their excited children. 

Dick waited a second, seeming to watch the happy family, before standing up from the table. “Come on, let’s go back to the park,” Dick suggested. Harry stood up and followed Dick to the trash can before they began walking back the way they had come. 

\---

Their afternoon had been spent entertaining the neighborhood children again. All the kids seemed to be ecstatic that they could play in the park again, and they were taking advantage of that. When Dick and Harry walked by, they were hailed by the children who roped them into some elaborate homemade game which seemed to be a mixture of tag, hide and seek, and capture the flag. Harry had no idea what he was doing, and could not name most of the rules of the game, but he was part of a team of children who were determined to win this game, and Harry was not going to let them down. If along the way he had some fun, well, that came as a surprise to him more than anyone.

The game was broken up when a mother of one of the children came looking for her child since it was past dinner time. Harry watched the little girl walk away, hand in her mother’s, excitedly explaining about their game. Her name was Bethany and little Bethany had lived here her entire life, all seven years of it, and this was the first time Harry had ever seen her. However, they had bonded when he, Bethany, and stubborn little Gordon had tackled Dick to the ground in a desperate attempt to protect their team’s base. Bethany turned around before she reached her house and waved to him, and Harry waved back eagerly. His spirit wasn’t even damped when the mother saw who she was waving at and pulled her more quickly inside,

The sight of a parent had the other kids worrying about the time and led to the game breaking up, but it was okay in Harry’s eyes because his team was winning. Plus little Abigail had managed to accidently elbow him in the leg and it was making it harder to run.

As the children began to disperse, many more said goodbye to Harry and he even got a hug from Gordon who had declared him “not as annoying as he looked” when the short hug ended.

Dick made his way over and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “That’s practically a declaration of love coming from that kid. I asked him his favorite food, and he told me it was the blood of his enemies.” Harry laughed and Dick joined in. Harry looked over at Dick and noticed he was covered in dirt and grass stains, and Harry assumed he must be in the same state. Needless to say it would not meet Aunt Petunia’s approval. 

“We should probably head back,” Harry said, which sombered up their fun pretty quickly. 

“Yeah, we should,” Dick agreed, and they started slowly making their way back to number four. If they both dragged their feet a little, well, nobody pointed it out. 

\--

“Is that you, freak?” Vernon called harshly as Harry and Dick entered the house. They had just been talking about Hedwig and how, yes she could actually deliver mail, and Harry was grinning because he never got to brag about Hedwig to anyone. However, the smile fell off his face as he heard the word. Harry didn’t react beyond a change in expressin. He had been called that enough to know that getting physically upset wouldn’t be a good idea. 

Dick, however, didn’t share this same sentiment. He gently pushed passed Harry, and made his way furiously into the house. Harry tried to tell Dick that it was okay, that he was used to this. But, Dick ignored his platitudes and threw the kitchen door open. Harry had always considered Dick warm and friendly, but even just looking at the man’s back, he saw how angry, and even dangerous, Dick was at that moment. Harry was so focused on Dick he didn’t even notice when he walked passed the horrible cupboard under the stairs to get to the kitchen. Harry was morbidly curious on what Dick would do. No one ever stood up to the Dursleys.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Dick asked the room with a deadly calm that seemed to be filled with promises of pain. Harry shivered even though the tone was on his behalf. The Dursleys in the room froze at the tone and harsh language. Petunia was the first to gather her wits about her and her face was flushed with anger, clashing awfully with the pink blouse she was wearing.

“Excuse me?” Petunia screeched. Dudley, who had stopped eating with his fork halfway to his mouth, unfroze to look up at his mother’s angry tone.

“I said, ‘What the fuck did you just say?’” Dick said calmly to Vernon, again. Vernon spluttered, red faced and fishing for excuses. 

Harry didn’t really understand why Dick was so angry. It was just a word. Definitely not even the worst thing his Uncle had ever said to him, but here Dick was, demanding answers in the kitchen on Harry’s behalf. It was kind of nice.

“I… I wasn’t talking to you!” Vernon defended. Harry, who was behind Dick, couldn’t see the change in Dick’s facial expression, but from the abrupt whitening of Vernon’s ruddy face, it must not have been promising. 

“Harry,” Dick addressed him without turning around. 

“Yeah,” Harry answered, wondering if Dick was going to pry into his life with the Dursleys even more. Wondering, and maybe hoping, that he would be able to tell someone all the injustices they had committed against him. 

“Go and pack your stuff,” Dick ordered. He fished the phone out of his pocket and shoved it into Harry’s hands. “The password is 2227. Call Bruce. Tell him to pick us up at that park as soon as he can.” Harry, apparently, hesitated too long. “Go.”

At Dick’s last word, Harry numbly but quickly made his way up the stairs. He heard the door to the kitchen close behind him, and assumed, since DIck wasn’t following him, that he was talking to the Dursleys and didn’t want Harry to hear what was said. Which was a bummer because Harry really wanted to hear what Dick would say to them. 

When Harry reached his room, he looked down at the little device in his hand. It was sleek and didn’t have a lot of buttons, so he pressed the ones that were on the sides and the one on the front, hoping they would do what he wanted. Typing in the password carefully when prompted, he struggled to find out how to work the phone. A cell phone wasn’t something he had ever really needed to work with. Thinking the little icon with a phone on it looked promising, Harry pressed it. He found recent calls and saw the most recent one was with Bruce, hopefully Dick only knew one Bruce. There were a lot of little pictures next to the name, and, not knowing what else to do, he poked it, hoping the phone would just do what he wanted. It seemed to want to cooperate as it dialed and said it was calling. Harry quickly put the phone up to his ear like he saw Dick do earlier.

Suddenly, with Dick’s phone pressed against his ear, listening to the dialing, it occurred to Harry how awkward this was. He was calling a man he had never met, hoping he would pick him up because his relatives were kind of mean to him. What if Mr. Wayne didn’t want to come? What if he didn’t pick up? Even worse, what if he did pick up?

Harry’s worries were interrupted, but intensified, when the phone stopped dialing and someone picked up.

“Yes, Dick,” the person on the other end, hopefully Bruce Wayne, said expectantly. Harry thought he sounded warmer than the Dursleys, which made sense if the man thought he was talking to his son. Harry didn’t answer fast enough again. “What is it?”

Harry took a deep breath before speaking. “Uh, Mr. Wayne?”

The voice on the other end grew more serious, worried even. “Yes. Who is this? Where is Dick?” Mr. Wayne questioned.

“Um,” Harry started, and he took a deep breath. Dick liked Mr. Wayne, Dick was nice, so maybe logically, Mr. Wayne would be nice? Harry thought his logic might be faulty, but plowed on ahead anyway. “I’m Harry, uh Harry Potter?” Harry cursed his unsure tone. He knew his own name. “Dick’s downstairs?” 

“Is Dick alright?” Mr. Wayne asked worriedly and left only a beat of silence before he continued in the same tone. “Are you alright?” 

Harry’s breath caught. The man didn’t even know him, and he was asking if Harry was okay, even before he got information on his own son. Harry too another deep breath, hoping his voice would be steady when he answered.

“He is, I am… we are both okay,” Harry assured the man unsteadily, but went on quickly before he lost his nerve. “But, Dick wanted me to ask you if you could pick us up at the park near here.” Harry spoke fast and he was a little worried that he would have to repeat himself.

“I can be there in twenty minutes,” Mr. Wayne informed him. Harry heard movement on the other end of the line.

“Okay.” Harry hoped the gratitude he felt was reflected in his voice. He took a couple moments to breath and Bruce was silent on the other end of the line. It was good because it allowed Harry to get his thoughts together. He was really going to pack up all his stuff and leave with almost-strangers. He was really going to walk out on the Dursleys and into the unknown. And it was great.

“Hold on a second,” Mr. Wayne said, and he must have covered his end of the phone because his conversation with a valet about getting his car was muffled. Bruce quickly got the time estimate for getting his car from thirty minutes down to five, and Harry had a feeling money was exchanged.

“Are you packing?” Mr. Wayne asked after his conversation with the valet. The question finally spurred Harry into motion.

“Yeah.” Harry kept Dick’s phone to his ear and didn’t say anything, and neither did Mr. Wayne. It was strange but comforting to know someone was on the other end of the phone line. He heard a brief conversation from the other end and the sounds of a car starting and assumed that Mr. Wayne was on his way.

Harry hadn’t really unpacked, so it wasn’t too hard to shove the few things he took out of his trunk back in. He had just grabbed Hedwig’s cage and was contemplating how he could move his trunk when Dick opened up the door to his room. Dick’s suitcase was rolling behind him, and he looked strained. 

“Good you’re packed. Bruce on his way?” Dick asked. Harry nodded and handed the phone over to Dick who shoved it between his shoulder and his ear. Dick then grabbed his own suitcase in one hand and Harry’s trunk in the other. Harry quickly grabbed onto the other end of the trunk and grabbed Hedwig’s cage firmly in his other hand. 

“How long till you get there?” Dick asked the phone as he lifted the trunk. They both made their way down the stairs Dick nodded at Bruce’s words. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Harry listened to Dick’s reassurances to his guardian as they got to the landing. He noticed that the kitchen was quiet and the door was shut. No Dursley in sight. As they made their way out the door, Harry wondered if leaving was the right thing. This, while it was not his home, was where he stayed. It should mean something. But, it didn’t. And Harry had no idea why he had to stay there every year. Harry had no idea why he couldn’t go stay with Ron or Sirius or anyone who didn’t hate him. 

But, he did know that Dick was nice to Hedwig and helped him with his nightmares and listened to him talk about magic and actually seemed to care. That’s good enough, thought Harry as he walked out of number four and into the street. That’s good enough.


	5. Mr. Wayne

“So, er, thanks,” Harry said into the tense silence. He was sitting on one of the non broken swings at the playground as they waited for Bruce Wayne to arrive. Dick was leaning on the support pole for the swings and he was watching the road intently. He paused his staring at the road to smile briefly at Harry. 

“Anytime.” 

Harry scuffed his shoes on the ground as he swung slowly back and forth. It was weird that it was still bright out. Running away always seemed like something that was done under the cover of darkness, not in the early evening when sunset was still an hour away. Hedwig hooted up at him from where the cage was perched on top of his trunk, causing Harry to look up from the nice peice of grass he was studying. 

But before he could acknowledge Hedwig, a car pulled to the curb on the road in front of them. It was a nice car. Harry didn’t know too much about cars, but he knew enough to know that this one was most likely worth several of his uncle’s. He had heard his uncle boasting about his car to his aunt one night and knew that it cost quite a bit of money. Harry didn’t even want to think about the exorbitant price of the car in front of him. 

The windows on the car were tinted, but Dick straightened up and made his way over, carrying his case. Harry placed his feet on ground to stop the swing, but he stayed in his seat. The driver exited the car. He, like Dick, was dark haired, but his hair was gelled back, matching the look of the suit he was wearing. Even when exiting the car, the man carried himself with an easy confidence that made Harry a little bit nervous. How do you talk to a stranger who was helping you escape from your horrible family? Was there etiquette for this? A thanks didn’t really seem to cut it.

Harry realized he must have blanked for a moment, since the man was now standing in front of him.

“Hello, Harry,” He was saying. The man gave him a once over and Harry could see his sharp blue eyes taking in everything from his baggy clothes to the scar on his forehead. He was tall and broad, not as big as Vernon, but still large enough to be intimidating. Plus this man’s mass was more muscle and less of the large amount of fat his uncle carried. The man seemed to come to this conclusion at the same time as Harry, and he sat on the swing next to him so they were closer to eye level. “I’m Bruce Wayne, and Dick and I are going to take you back to my hotel. Is that alright?”

Harry nodded at Wayne while looking back down at the nice patch of grass by his feet. He didn’t know what to say. Peripherally, Harry noticed that Dick had already placed his own suitcase in the back of the car, and was making his way back over to the swings.

“We can take you somewhere else, if you prefer,” Wayne suggested lightly. Harry worried about being inconvenient. Hotel rooms weren’t usually that big. He was really making Mr. Wayne go out of his way for him. But how could he even explain how to get to the Wesley’s? Merlin only knew where Sirius was. Hopefully not still in a cave. He had never thought about asking Hermione where exactly she lived. “But that can probably wait until tomorrow,” Wayne continued. “Why don’t you come with us for tonight, and there we can discuss what will happen next?”

Harry wasn’t sure how to phrase his question and he felt it leave his lips before he could control it. “I won’t be a bother?” After blurting it out, Harry started fiddling self-consciously with the chain of the swing. The patch of grass was looking really lush and green. 

Wayne reached out and stilled Harry’s fidgeting hand with his own steady one. Harry looked up but couldn’t meet the man’s eyes. “Of course not,” Wayne answered, and Harry found the confident tone comforting. “Why don’t you grab your owl, and Dick and I will get your trunk into the car?”

“Alright,” Harry answered after second. There wasn’t really a downside that Harry could see. Wayne already seemed nicer than the Dursley’s and he was inviting Harry back instead of making him find somewhere else. Plus, Wayne was already here and was clearly going to take Dick, so he might as well go with him.

Wayne stood and Harry followed suit. Dick was hovering by Harry’s trunk and smiled at Harry when he stood up. Harry tried to smile back, but was worried it came out looking pained. Once Harry picked up the owl cage, Dick and Wayne both grabbed a side of the trunk and lifted it easily. Apparently, they were both ridiculously strong since there was none of the struggle that Harry always had with his heavy luggage.

“You and Hedwig can take the backseat,” Dick said as he and Bruce made their way over to the car with ease, as if they didn’t have a large heavy trunk supported between them. Harry was oddly pleased that Hedwig warranted a place in the regular car. His uncle always shoved the poor bird into the trunk and he knew she hated it in there. “I’ll take shotgun,” Dick continued. Harry’s face twisted in confusion at the unfamiliar term. He knew a shotgun was a muggle weapon, but that seemed a bit out of context in the situation. 

“He means the other front seat,” Bruce told Harry over his shoulder. Harry nodded, and then slid into the back seat with Hedwig’s cage in his lap. Harry was behind the driver’s side, and he clipped his seat belt, careful not to get in tangled in the birdcage. The car was nice. Perfectly clean, in a way that his uncle also strived to have his car be, but often couldn’t reach. The seats were a soft leather, and Harry was a bit worried about the owl cage on it, so he held it tighter in his lap. He could hear the other men putting his trunk in the back still. Harry put his fingers through the cage to stroke the owl’s feathers.

“We’re running away, girl,” Harry whispered to her. The trunk slammed shut as she looked at him piercingly, then delicately placed her head under her wing to go to sleep. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

The front doors opened and Dick and Wayne slid into the car. The car had never been turned off, so, once the two men were sitting and clicked their seatbelts in, the call pulled away from the curb smoothly. 

Suddenly the weight of what he was doing hit Harry. He was running away. Away from the place he had stayed for years. Away from the only family he had left. Away from it all. It felt like a very un-Gryffindor thing to do. Shouldn’t he stay where he was and deal with it? Maybe try to change tt? What would the others think about this? Would Hermione and Ron think he was doing things right? Would Sirius approve of running away? What would Dumbledore say? He would definitely not be allowed back to the Dursley’s after this. He was barely allowed back as it was. He would need somewhere else to stay. 

“Get your feet off the dash.” Wayne’s scolding interrupted Harry’s thoughts. Dick wiggled his feet that were perched on the dash in front of him, and Wayne used one hand to push Dick’s feet to the floor. “Honestly, Dick, you could get hurt. Plus it’s a rental, and you’re a mess. Why are you such a mess?”

Harry had almost forgotten that they were covered in grass stains and probably lots of dirt. The playground and all the children seemed like years ago, rather than less than an hour previously.

“Harry and I were entertaining the neighborhood kids,” Dick explained. “They roped us into a game of…” He trailed off and turned around to face Harry, twisting in his seat and leaning more of his body over the middle console than was probably safe. “What game was it?”

“Er, I dunno,” Harry answered, surprised at being addressed. His methodic stroking of Hedwig’s feathers stopped momentarily and she lifted up her wing to encourage him to continue. “It was weird, though.”

Dick put his elbow on the middle console and put his chin in his hand, nodding fervently. “Yeah, it was like hide and seek, tag, and capture the flag all rolled into one, plus tackling was kind of allowed sometimes? It was weird, but fun.”

“Dick, sit like a normal person before you get hurt,” Wayne chided and took a hand off the wheel to guide Dick’s head back to where it was supposed to be. As soon as Dick was sitting like he was supposed to, he put his feet up on the dash again. Harry smothered a laugh as Dick sent a wink with his childish antics. It was nice that they seemed so comfortable with each other. “Well, whatever the game was, both of you need a shower when we get back.” 

“And dinner,” Dick added helpfully. Wayne pushed Dick’s legs down from the dash again. Harry couldn’t tell if Wayne was annoyed by Dick’s seemingly constant need for movement, but he seemed to be dealing with it with a patient and well-practiced hand. It was kind of nice to watch how well they interacted. 

“I was going to order room service, if you two want to do that or the hotel has a restaurant,” Wayne answered, seeming to sense how Dick’s feet were rising back to the dashboard and stopping them before they could reach it. “So, how was this game that has no name or solid set of rules?”

“Room service sounds fine. And the game was good, but sometimes I messed up some of the rules that no one knew existed and the kids would tell me I had to go to ‘jail’ for breaking the rules,” Dick answered as he moved the seat belt across his chest so it was behind his back. “Like, I think they were making up rules just to get me in jail.”

“Gordon certainly was,” Harry muttered darkly. That kid had tackled his legs one too many times in the game to deserve kindness.

Dick laughed. “Yeah that kid was out for blood. But did you see when Bethany tagged him after the...”

Wayne interrupted him. “Dick, wear your seatbelt like it is supposed to be worn, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I have the bottom part on,” Dick answered flippantly. “It’s fine. Anyway, I think that the kids had fun and that’s what counts right?”

“Not if there’s a crash,” Bruce shot back, ignoring Dick’s last comment, as he reached over behind Dick’s back to pull the seatbelt back to the front. “It was cute when you were nine, but not so much anymore.”

“Are you implying that I’m not cute now?” Dick asked, clutching his hand to his chest dramatically. Wayne snorted. “And, anyway, you’re not going to crash.”

Bruce sighed a long suffering sigh again, but changed the topic. “Harry are you alright with room service?”

“Er, yeah, sure.” Harry’s fingers stilled on Hedwig’s feathers. Then he thought of lunch earlier that morning. “I don’t have any money, though.” Harry resumed stroking Hedwig’s feathers a little more vigorously than before, but that didn’t stop him from noticing the significant look that was exchanged by the two men in the front seats. 

“That’s fine,” Wayne answered levely. “I was planning on paying anyway, since it will just go to my tab at the hotel.”

Harry didn’t know what to say next, and the silence grew awkward very fast, at least for Harry. He tried to focus more on Hedwig and less on the other people in the car. That was growing harder because Dick started fiddling with the car radio and playing with the stations until he found some catchy pop song that he seemed to know the words to, if his singing was any indication. Wayne turned the volume down a bit, which Harry was thankful for because it was loud in the small care and was clearly agitating Hedwig at that volume. Once it was at a lower volume, Wayne let it be, and the silence of the occupants was filled by a catchy rhythm and fast paced lyrics.

After a couple of songs, Harry realized that it was definitely taking longer than twenty minutes to get back to the hotel, and he was wondering just how fast Wayne had been going when he came to pick them up. Getting closer to the building made Harry think of the problem in his arms.

“What about Hedwig?” He asked, not feeling comfortable leaving her outside, or even worse, cooped up in the car. 

“The hotel has a no pets policy,” Wayne answered. “But, I’m sure that I can talk to someone about that.” Harry had a feeling that ‘talking’ was actually code for handing someone a large amount of money, and he was also not very comfortable with that.

Dick turned to face the back, contemplating their problem, forgetting to sing along to the radio. Hedwig, seeming to know they were discussing her, had stopped pretending to sleep and was staring back at Dick. “She’s very intelligent,” Dick mused. Then he turned to Bruce. “Does your hotel room have windows that open, B?”

Harry could see in the rear view mirror that Bruce practically smirked, and Dick laughed at either his question or the expression before continuing without receiving an answer. “Of course it does.” He turned to face Harry and Hedwig again. “If we told her the room, could she find us?”

“Definitely,” Harry answered immediately. 

“The CU Hotel and Suites, room 529,” Wayne informed him without prompting.

“Only floor five?” Dick asked incredulously for some reason. Maybe rich people like being higher off the ground? Although Dick had never really shown the rich boy attitude that Aunt Petunia thought he would possess. Maybe it was just something that Wayne liked?

“The highest they have, It’s a small hotel,” Wayne responded flatly as he pulled off into a side street, out of the hussle and bussle of the main road. “You should probably let her out here, that way we don’t terrify the valet.”

Harry opened the car door ignoring Dick’s “Oh my god, can you picture the poor valet’s face?” as he got out of the car. He opened the cage and pulled Hedwig out. 

“You heard him, right? I’ll be in the CU Hotel and Suites, room 529,” Harry told her. He wasn’t sure if she would know how to find the room, but he knew she could find him. She always was able to find him. Hedwig nipped a finger gently as a goodbye before she took off into the air. Dusk was growing closer and the dwindling sunlight made her feathers glow a brilliant red and gold “See you soon, girl,” Harry whispered before getting back in the car.

Discarding the empty cage on the other seat, he shut the door behind him. “She’ll, uh, meet us there, Mr. Wayne,” Harry told the man. 

Wayne made eye contact with Harry through the rearview mirror. “You can call me Bruce, Harry.” Harry nodded, not sure if he should. Only Sirius ever really felt like an adult he could call by his first name. Even Lupin, who he knew cared about him, had always only really been Lupin. 

“Put your seatbelt back on,” Wayne ordered Harry in the same tone he used to tell Dick to take his feet off the dash. Harry wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he did do as he was told. As soon as it clicked, Wayne smoothly moved them back onto the main road and back towards the hotel. The backseat somehow felt lonelier without Hedwig there with him, so Harry looked out the window. They were still clearly in the suburbs, but there were less residential houses in this area and more shops and restaurants. The large sign for their hotel was growing closer and Harry hoped he was making the right decision going with Dick and Mr. Wayne.


	6. What Comes Next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK RECAP FOR THOSE THAT FORGOT: Harry came back from his fourth year to find Dick Grayson at the house. He and Dick bond. Dursleys are meanies. Dick and Harry leave with Bruce and are now going to a hotel. 
> 
> Also this chapter is long. I'm proud of it. Enjoy.

Pulling up in front of the hotel was a surreal experience. It was surprisingly high class considering the mostly suburban area around it, with elaborate lights and architecture. It wasn’t a very big hotel, but it made up for its size but stuffing every single corner with something beautiful. Even the outside with filled with beautiful art, elaborate design features, and flourishing fauna. Wayne pulled the car up right in front of the door, under a little roof that was over the main entrance. Immediately, there were two smartly dressed men, one opening Wayne’s door and then moving on to Harry’s and the other opening Dick’s door. 

“You should probably leave the cage in the car,” Dick suggested right before he got out. “She’s smart, we’ll give her free range of the room. Plus it would be weird to bring in empty birdcage.” He exited the car laughing, and Harry got out too once his door was opened. 

“Is there any luggage that needs to be brought up, sir?” The man on Dick’s side asked as the other one took the keys from Wayne.

“Ah, yes, in the trunk. I’ll just open that right up,” Wayne answered, but that confident tone had all but disappeared, and Harry really didn’t understand. Harry made his way around the car and over toward Dick, who was looking at a rather interesting sculpture of a man riding a dolphin. “If you could take that to 529, I need to ask the desk about more room keys.”

“Of course, sir,” one of them answered, and honestly they sounded so similar Harry couldn’t tell which one spoke. 

Harry heard the men grunting, very unprofessionally, as they hefted out his heavy trunk, but was distracted by Wayne as the man came up between him and Dick and put a hand on each one of their shoulders before leading them into the nice hotel. The doors opened automatically and Harry had an odd vision of Uncle Vernon screaming about them doing magic and how unnatural it was. The door at their local grocery store did the same thing and Harry had always wondered if that was why only Aunt Petunia and himself really did any shopping there. 

The inside was somehow more splendid than the outside. There was an elaborate fountain taking up the center of the room. Four beautiful women in flowing gowns carved out of the stone were pouring water out from buckets they were holding, and it was rimmed by a bench done in a brilliant red cushion. The whole lobby seemed to be done in an elaborate reds and bold golds with some dark woodwork when the decore called for it. There were some high backed chairs done in red fabric with gold trimming that briefly made Harry think of a more sophisticated Gryffindor common room.

Bruce’s hand fell away from his back as the man took the lead to the main desk across the room. Harry and Dick trailed Wayne passed the fountain and up to the desk, standing a bit awkwardly behind him as Wayne smiled at the woman there and explained how he needed a few more room keys. Harry turned his back to the desk to look more at the sophisticated atmosphere. He wondered how anyone sat in the high back chairs, they looked so elaborate it was almost a crime to ruin them by actually using them. And he could not comprehend anyone actually putting their feet on the beautiful matching footrests.

“Oooh, cookies.” Dick was still facing the desk, and off to one side there was a large plate of chocolate chip biscuits with little tongs and a pitcher of ice water. Dick’s hand closed around Harry’s wrist and he tugged causing to Harry turn around and see the biscuits for himself. 

“Do you want one?” Dick asked, but continued before Harry answered, already dragging him by the wrist over to the plate. “Cause, I want one.”

“Are you sure we can just take them?” Harry asked unsteadily as Dick released his wrist to grab a biscuit. There was no helpful little sign saying to take one, but no one was yelling at Dick.

“Of course,” Dick answered through a mouthful, picking up another for Harry to take from him. “Come on, they’re good!”

“But, are you sure it’s allowed?” Harry asked weakly. He wasn’t a huge stickler to the rules, that was Hermione, but this was a very strange place and he doesn’t really know what the rules were here, or how he would get punished for breaking them. Plus the inside of this place was shiny and spotless, and Harry was still covered in dirt from their earlier games. Even though he was only wearing shorts and a t-shirt, it felt like Harry could feel the clothes weighing him down.

“Harry, there are cookies on this table, and they are supposed to be eaten,” Dick said more seriously. Then he waved the biscuit in his hand in front of Harry. “And, this one is for you.”

Harry felt uncomfortable, but took it anyway and managed a small bite. They were good, and Harry tried a small smile that Dick returned as he ate another biscuit. 

Wayne approached them from behind and caught a biscuit that Dick through over Harry’s head at him. “They gave me some extra room keys,” Wayne said, holding the biscuit in one hand and two plastic cards in the other. Harry really didn’t get what they were supposed to do with plastic cards, but he took one when Dick did. 

Wayne took a bite of the biscuit and led them over to the lifts. The lift came quickly and they rode up to the fifth floor in silence. Harry marveling at how their was even a beautiful painting in the elevator. When it opened on their floor, Wayne led them through a hall, where the bottom was paneled in a nice wood that was shined to almost look bronze and the top had a nice warm yellow that was accented by light fixtures on the walls every few paces, as well as more artwork. The doors were darker with bronze numbers on them. At the very end was room 529.

Wayne used his little plastic card to open the door by putting it in a little slot, which answered Harry’s questions about it. He walked in, turning the lights on and talking over his shoulder. “My business partner reserved a suite for me, so we have a kitchen in the common space as well as two bedrooms. I’m staying in the one with a king, and the other one has two doubles, so that works out well. Each bedroom has a bathroom, so both of you can wash up and change.”

Harry followed him in, and the room looked about as put together as the rest of the hotel. There was a small kitchen on his left, it had a full sized fridge and stove and a table that could seat up to four. There was a nice sitting area with a large TV right in front of them, and behind that was a sliding glass door that opened onto a balcony. On either side of the room were doors, each seemed to have a bedroom behind them. The whole suite was done in varying shades of blue, which some green accents here and there. It looked more liveable than the lobby, but the furniture still looked too new, and the room too clean. It felt too perfect to disturb with occupants.

Dick was looking around the kitchen, examining the coffees and teas in a little basket on the table. He didn’t seem to have any qualms about messing up the room, since he was sitting at one of the kitchen chairs to do that, dirty pants and all. Wayne looked into the room on the left. “Ah, they put your luggage in this room for you. Get cleaned up, and then we’ll order room service.”

Dick finished his examination of the table and stood back up with a fake salute. “Solid plan, boss.”

Harry was distracted from their weird interactions by a white blur landing on the balcony railing. “Hedwig!” He had almost forgotten about her in the excitement of getting there. Harry made his way over and opened the sliding door. He heard Wayne mutter “A very smart bird” to Dick but Harry ignored it. Hedwig took off from the balcony and soared over his head and into the room. Making herself comfortable on the back of the kitchen chair next to Dick. 

“Wow, she found us pretty fast,” Dick said as he started stroking her feathers. Harry shut the sliding door again and couldn’t tell if Hedwig’s pleased posture was from Dick’s physical attention or his praise, but Harry decided she deserved it either way.

“Showers?” Wayne pointed out to them again. He had moved to sit on the couch and seemed to be perusing the room service menu. 

“Right,” Dick answered and stroked Hedwig one last time before he moved to the room where his suitcase was. Hedwig put her head under her wing again, and Harry spared her a glance before he followed Dick into their room.

Harry’s trunk was at the foot of the bed closest to the door. He was glad to see it was still securely shut, but he undid the latches to grab a change of clothes and some toiletries. Dick’s case was on his bed and he was already rummaging around for clothes. He didn’t look much more organized than Harry’s, but it was smaller so he found what he was looking for faster.

“I’ll use Bruce’s shower and you can use this one,” Dick explained as he made his way out of the room with a bundle of clothes.

It only took Harry a couple of minutes to find everything he needed, then he headed to the bathroom in the room. The bathroom was spotless and the towels hanging were fluffy and smelled wonderful. Harry put his clean clothes on counter by the sink before stripping out of the dirty ones. Harry showered quickly, but was distracted for a bit by the amazing water pressure. He had only ever really stayed in the Leaky Cauldron, when not at school or the Dursley’s, and this was much, much nicer. When he was done he put his dirty clothes back in the trunk and wasn’t totally sure what to do with the towel he used, so he hung it on a hook on the bathroom wall. 

Making his way out into the common space, he found Wayne still on the couch and stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

“Oh, you’re out,” Wayne said when he looked up from a magazine that had been on the table. He picked up a menu and held it out to Harry. “Pick out something you like and then I’ll order.”

Harry glanced at the menu and winced when he saw it lacked prices next to the items. Did that mean it was more expensive? Probably. He didn’t want to inconvenience Wayne anymore than he already was. He shoved the menu back into Wayne’s hands, not reading any more. “I’m not really hungry,” Harry explained hastily to Wayne’s raised eyebrow, but the eyebrow rose higher, so Harry felt the need to defend himself. “We had a big lunch earlier.”

Harry quickly turned his back to the man and his eye fell on Hedwig, who was still perched contentedly on one of the chairs in the kitchen area. Harry made his way over and stroked her back as he continued reassurances. “So, really, thanks, but I’m good.”

“I really think you should get something,” Wayne insisted and Harry jumped a little because Wayne was right behind him and Harry had not heard him following. “Just in case you get hungry in a bit.”

Petting Hedwig a little more vigorously, Harry tried to think of a polite way to turn down Wayne without being rude. Wayne sat down in the chair next to Hedwig as Harry thought about it. But the offer was clearly genuine, and Harry sort of was hungry again. “I guess that makes sense,” Harry answered finally.

Wayne smiled, and his teeth looked a little too white and straight to be real for a second. “Excellent. What would you like then?” He put the menu on the table and pushed it towards Harry, but Harry ignored it, focusing very intently on Hedwig’s feathers. 

“Uh, I’ll just have whatever,” Harry answered vaguely. There was some dirt on the white feathers and that was taking a lot of concentration to work it out without pulling the soft down. 

“Would you like a small whatever or a large whatever?” Wayne replied dryly. Harry startled at the words, a joke he assumed.

“What?” Harry asked, finally turning away from Hedwig to face the man. There was humor in his blue eyes and soft smile, but he also looked a bit pained in Harry’s opinion. Harry briefly wished that Dick and his easygoing attitude could be here to help him out with Wayne, but he could still hear the shower going in the other room.

“Nevermind,” Wayne answered with a wave of his hand. “Do you like pasta? Dick does and he wanted to try this dish.” Wayne gestured to a dish with a hard to pronounce name and some harder to pronounce ingredients. Harry made a face at it and Bruce continued. “Or perhaps a steak? I’m rather fond of it and they serve a nice cut here.” Harry had done some shopping before and knew how expensive beef could be. “Maybe a chicken dish? There are a couple to chose from here.” The amount of choices of chicken was a little overwhelming and exceedingly extravagant in Harry’s opinion. “A nice risotto, maybe?”

Harry couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “What’s risotto?” The moment they left his lips Harry regretted it. He cursed himself for looking like an idiot. It was probably something simple and now Wayne would think he was an idiot.

“It’s a rice dish where the rice is cooked in a specific way, usually slowly and in more liquid than normal, and generally has either meat, seafood, or vegetables mixed in,” Wayne explained patiently. He didn’t seem to think Harry was a moron for not knowing, or get angry at a question. “A well made risotto is very delicious, you should try it. There are a few choices here for you to pick from.”

Harry couldn’t respond. He looked over the choices on the menu that Wayne gestured to, but he found it hard to absorb any of it. This was strange. Wayne was strange. 

The silence is broken a few moments later by Wayne. “There is also a chef’s choice where the ingredients change depending on the chef, so you won’t know what’s in it if you can’t decide. All the options look good, so I understand the hesitation.” Wayne’s tone was kind and helpful, while not being suffocating, and Harry appreciated the guidance.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Harry answered, letting go of the menu and turning back to Hedwig. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Wayne answered as he rose from the chair and headed over to the phone next to the couch. “I’ll put in our order then.”

Harry didn’t pay attention to the man as he dialed a number and told their order to the person on the other end. Hedwig had peaked out from under her wing again and was looking at him with eyes that always held more intelligence than Harry thought they would. Harry sat down in the chair Wayne just vacated and Hedwig jumped to perch on his leg. There was a brief pinch as she settled and made herself comfortable, but when she stopped moving her talons were safely out of his leg. Wayne came back over, done with the room service call, and sat down across from Harry.

“It should be here in about half an hour,” Wayne told him, and Harry nodded.

Dick chose that moment to come out of Wayne’s room. He was in fresh clothes and his hair was dripping still as he stolled across the room to them. Throwing his old clothes into the other bedroom, probably landing them on the floor, he took the seat next to Wayne. “The food should be here in half an hour?” Dick clarified. 

Bruce responded, but Harry was focusing on Hedwig again, so he didn’t catch the exact words, but he did catch Dick’s reply.

“Wow, we are great kidnappers,” Dick said with a grin, and Harry started a little bit at the word choice, but realized it was all in good fun as Dick continued. “Feeding our victim and everything.”

Wayne sighed and blatantly rolled his eyes. “We didn’t kidnap him,” he said, enunciating his words clearly.

“Well, I guess I did all the work,” Dick acknowledged. Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “You were just my get away driver.”

“I don’t think it is kidnapping if I go with you willingly,” Harry pointed out to them, and Dick shook his head vigorously at him. Harry liked how Dick and Wayne interacted, it was easy and fun while somehow being serious.

“No, no, no, that’s the best kind of kidnapping!” Dick explained. “We made you want to come with us.” And the topic suddenly grew uncomfortable with the mention of how undesirable Harry’s relatives were.

“Well, despite all that,” Wayne said, and he seemed to be a voice of reason to Dick’s exuberance. “You are here willingly, and we need to talk about if you would like to stay with us or if we can help you go somewhere else.”

And that sobered up the conversation pretty quickly. Dick and Harry both grew serious as Wayne continued his line of thought. “Obviously, you will not be returning to your aunt and uncle but if there is a another relative or a friend you wanted to stay with here, I would be happy to stay and help out with the legal matters,” Wayne offered and Harry was unexpectedly grateful to the man he barely knew for making the offer.

“Or you could come back with us!” Dick counter-offered excitedly. It was strange since he had really only just met them, but Harry didn’t think living with these men would be that bad. They had been kinder to him in the short time they have known him than the Dursleys had been in his entire life. But still they had only just met, so Harry didn’t really expect Wayne to want to offer up his home.

“Or you could come back with us,” Wayne agreed to Harry’s surprise. His voice wasn’t cold per say, but it definitely didn’t hold the intense warmth that Dick’s did. However, the offer did seem to be genuine.

“Er,” Harry wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to do. On one hand it was crazy to go with these people, he barely knew them! But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if there was really anyone else willing to take him. “I’m not sure… I don’t really know?”

“Well,” Dick said, interrupting Harry’s indecision. “You have a godfather.”

Wayne looked interested. “If he was made your godfather by your parents, then transferring your guardianship to him would not be very hard.” The man paused. “You should have been placed with him after your parents death instead of your aunt and uncle.”

Harry looked back down at Hedwig so he didn’t have to see Wayne’s face.. “He’s kind of on the run?” Harry explained tentatively.

“On the run?” Bruce asked sharply. “For what?”

“He was framed,” Harry told him hurriedly. “He was accused of helping my parents murderer and of killing a bunch of other people, but he’s innocent, really.” Wayne looked at him doubtfully with narrowed eyes, and Harry suddenly felt very small.

“Well, innocent or not,” Wayne said delicately after a moment of awkward silence where Harry continued to stroke Hedwig hoping that the awkwardness in the room would dissipate. “If he is accused of a crime that makes everything much more complicated. If he really is innocent, we could work on clearing his name, but you need to stay somewhere in the meantime.”

Harry was momentarily stunned because no one else had ever suggested trying to clear Sirius’s name. Most of them knew it would be almost impossible without Pettigrew, but no one even discussed that possibility. 

“I don’t think clearing his name will be too easy,” Harry informed him after another brief silence.

Wayne waved his hand airily. “If he is innocent, I’m sure it could be proven by someone. I know a few good detectives” Dick choked out something that sounded oddly like a laugh, but stopped quickly from a sharp look from Wayne.

“Now,” Wayne continued seamlessly. “We need to focus on our present situation. Do you want us to help you get somewhere, or would you like to come with us?”

The word situation made Harry remember that his staying here was indeed a problem that needed to be solved. Fancy food and excellent water pressure were great for the moment, but he really needed to figure out a way of getting out of Wayne’s hair. Wayne didn’t seem to have a problem offering his home, but plane tickets were expensive weren’t they? It would cost a lot to go back with them, and he would probably need some identification, which he clearly didn’t have. Harry didn’t think a wand would really help him getting across a border. Plus that was just the travel challenges, living with them would present a whole host of other problems, like food and school. Plus Dick had already a little brother, two little brothers, and he didn’t want to impose on any of that.

“I have some friends I should ask,” Harry decided finally.

Dick’s face fell a little bit, but he perked up right away. “Sounds good, Harry. Well, we are always willing to have you anytime. Do you want to borrow my phone to make ? I’ll go grab my phone.” Dick rose from his chair and breezed out of the room in a flurry of words and over scented floral shampoo. Harry turned a puzzled look on Wayne.

“He gets attached to people,” Wayne told him as if that explained all the confusion here. Yes, Harry already liked Dick quite a bit, and Wayne was growing on him, but he hadn’t known them very long. Maybe they would all be able to keep in contact. Lots of people at school received letters from family, and even if they weren’t related by blood, they seemed very kind.

Dick came back into the room as fast as he’d left. “Sorry, it was under the suitcase, no idea how it go there, but I found it!” Dick held out the phone triumphantly to Harry, but faltered when he focused on Hedwig. “Oh yeah, you have an owl,” Dick pointed out unnecessarily. “Are you just going to use her?” 

“Use her how?” Wayne asked, clearly surprised, and Harry floundered for a minute. With the way Wayne had unquestionably accepted Hedwig in the car, he had assumed the man knew about magic, clearly that had been wrong.

“Er,” Harry started to salvage the situation, but was cut off by Dick.

“Hedwig can deliver mail, apparently most owls can,” Dick explained, then he caught Harry’s incredulous look. How could Dick just out the entire magical world to this man? “Oh, don’t look so worried, Harry. Bruce already knows about magic.”

Wayne nodded in agreement, but Harry wasn’t so sure because how could people not know about owls if they knew anything about wizards? But maybe they weren’t used as much in America? Maybe it was just a culture difference?

Harry decided to stop thinking about it and instead focus back on the situation. “I could send Hedwig off with a letter to my friend Ron, but he probably won’t respond until tomorrow. I could call my friend Hermione in the meantime? I think I have her number somewhere, but I have to find it.”

Wayne agreed to the plan and Harry quickly excused himself to find a quill and parchment so he could write his letter right away. Thankfully, his writing utensils weren’t buried too far in his trunk because he had recently used them for exams and hadn’t really rummaged around since then. Hermione’s number was another thing entirely. __

_Harry was eleven years old and sitting in the first year boy’s dormitory. There was a cacophony of sound surrounding him as all his dorm mates were running around gathering up their things and trying fruitlessly to shove to many things into already overstuffed trunks. Harry looked down at his own. It was messy, sure, but everything fit pretty easily. No shoving necessary._

_Dean was swearing a blue streak as he realized that just dumping all his books in had folded and almost wrecked one of his football posters. Ron was chasing Scabbers around the room, trying to catch the rat while Seamus egged him on. Neville was carefully folding his robes and packing them in somewhat neatly. Harry lied back on his four poster and stared up at the ceiling. He had heard Seamus talking about how excited he was to sleep in his own bed and it caused an odd sort of ache in his stomach._

_“Honestly, what are you all doing?” Hermione’s pompous voice came through the open door way. Her hands were on her hips and her intimidating glare did nothing to stop the chaos in the room._

_“Hi Hermione,” Neville said with a small wave from his trunk. But the sound was almost lost by the other boys’ voices. Neville’s distraction caused the shirt he was folding to slip and he blushed before focusing back on the task at hand._

_Hermione made her way over to Harry’s bed, carefully stepping over a lose Scabbers and dodging Ron hurtling after him._

_“Are you all packed, at least?” She asked as she sat on the edge of his bed, pulling her legs up to sit crisscross to avoid that hazard that the other boys had made out of the floor._

_“Yeah,” Harry answered back with his eyes still focused on the canopy above his bed. “Just finished. What about you?”_

_“I’ve been mostly packed for days. I just had to add a few things.” Her eyes followed the debacle before her. “Honestly, you would think they just realized we were leaving.”_

_“Days?” Harry asked, sitting up to face her._

_She blushed a bit. “Yes, well,” Hermione paused and turned to face Harry, putting her back to the rest of the room, which Harry wasn’t sure was a safe thing to do. “I’ve been missing my parents, I guess. With the school year over, I just want to go back home.” Harry was a bit dumbstruck by this. Leaving Hogwarts was pretty much his worst nightmare._

_Hermione continued when Harry didn’t. “I love Hogwarts, and I love learning, but this isn’t really home for me. You know?” She looked at Harry for a validation he couldn’t give. She seemed to understand that._

_“I think Hogwarts is my home,” he told her. “I don’t want to leave.” Confiding in Hermione was good. She seemed to know that he didn’t want pity or a lecture, just someone to listen to him._

_Hermione was about to speak again when Scabbers scurried across the bed and Ron jumped on top of Harry to catch him. “Oh, I just can’t catch him! You can stay here and starve for all I care you ungrateful freeloader!”_

_Ron made to get up from his sprawl on Harry’s legs, but stopped when he looked up and saw the serious looks above his head. “When did you get in here Hermione? What’s up?”_

_“Harry and I were just talking about leaving,” Hermione told him. Ron rolled over so his back was crushing Harry’s legs rather than his front._

_“Oh come on, I’m not that heavy!” Ron told Harry at the other’s groan Harry found it hard to get used to this weird causal contact with Ron. He supposed Ron did it because he was used to having brothers who probably took great joy in sitting on him. “But yeah, home. I can’t wait to have my own room again,” Ron laughed and Harry shoved his head down. “Plus mum’s cooking is great, can’t wait. I guess I’ll have to look after my kid sister again, but maybe I’ll convince her to sneak into Fred and George’s room again! And, no essays from Binn’s or having to be nice to Snape for a whole three months. It’s going to be great.”_

_“I guess I’m going to miss Hogwarts is all,” Harry said, looking at Hermione’s serious face and Ron’s open one._

_“We’re going to miss you too, mate,” Ron said, and Harry was amazed that it just rolled off of Ron’s tongue so easily. “Even if I won’t miss your boney knees!” Ron made a big show of sitting up and rubbing his sore back. “I’ll just be an owl away. Well, your owl, Errol might get lost or croak on the trip.” Ron’s attention was caught by Scabber’s mad break for where his food was hidden across the room. “Get back here you mangy little thing!”_

_At Ron’s mad dash away Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry stretched out his legs to uncramp them. “Ron’s right though Harry,” Hermione said seriously. “We should keep in contact, my parents might find it weird, but I’m sure some owls will be fine.” Her eyes lit up in an unmistakable glint that meant she had a brilliant idea. She had those rather often. “Oh, I can give you my telephone number too, since you live with muggles!”_

_Harry was going to try to explain that his aunt and uncle had never let him use the phone, and he didn’t think they would start now, but Hermione was already reaching down into his open trunk and rifling through._

_“Honestly, Harry, folding would do wonders for your organization,” she didn’t seem to need a response as she continued to talk as she rummaged, already pulling out a quill and a half empty bottle of ink. “I can’t just write it on a piece of paper, you’ll lose that for sure. Hmm, maybe on the trunk? But the ink would get rubbed off… Oh, I know!”_

_She pulled out one of Harry’s textbooks triumphantly, and Harry had a moment of puzzlement before he realized that Hermione Granger was about to write in a textbook._

_“A book?” He asked incredulously._

_“Of course,” Hermione replied loftily as she uncapped the ink. “No one would ever lose a book.”_

Opening all his books front covers took some time, but eventually he found it in the cover of his _Hogwarts A History_ book, and thought that he really ought to have looked their first. Her handwriting was neat and precise and Harry took a second to trace the numbers before putting the book aside and grabbing the ink and parchment. 

Sitting down at the desk in the bedroom, he uncorked the bottle and quickly penned a letter to Ron. Not totally sure how much to say, or how to say it, honestly, Harry kept it short and to the point.

_Hey Ron,_

_I hope your Summer holidays are going well. Did you get to sleep for a full day yet like you planned? Or did your mum save the gnomes in the garden for when you guys got back again?_

_I’m doing okay, but I don’t think I can go back to my relatives again. Could I stay with your family till school starts again?_

_Harry_

Harry felt that maybe he should have added a bit more, but didn’t really want to get into it. Before he could change his mind, he folded it up, smudging the ink a little bit with his lack of patience. 

Leaving the bedroom, he made his way back out to the main room where Dick was still sitting at the table stroking Hedwig.

“Bruce had to make a work call, so he’s in his room,” Dick said to Harry’s unasked question. “I guess you need her right?.”

As if sensing they were talking about her, Hedwig hooted at them imperiously and spread her impressive wings. Taking flight, she made a few slow circles around the small room while Harry opened the balcony door. She landed gracefully on the railing and held out her leg for Harry to attach the letter. 

“It’s for Ron,” Harry told her. “He’s most likely at the Burrow right now.” She looked down her beak at him, as if she already knew that thank you very much, and Harry smiled fondly at her as she took off.

“Wow, and she knows, just like that?” Dick asked, and Harry jumped about a foot in the air because he had not heard the man come up behind him. 

“Yeah,” Harry answered once his heart restarted. Hedwig was just a blur now up against the fading sun. “I’m not sure how it works, but she’s never been wrong.”

“That’s really cool.” Harry nodded and they stared after her until the white dot in the distance faded to nothing. Dick tapped him phone on Harry’s hands over the balcony, and Harry took it from him because apparently this man didn’t realize how delicate phones were and that dangling them over five stories was bad. “Now you can call your friend. Hermione, was it?”

Harry nodded and Dick continued. “You can call out here if you want, I’ll be in there waiting for the food.”

“Her numbers in the room, but, Er, could you show me how to work this? I don’t know how I even managed to call Mr. Wayne.” Harry held out the phone to Dick who took it looking surprised.

After a quick crash course in smartphone usage, which included a few games that distracted Harry briefly from his goal of calling Hermione, Harry made his way back into the bedroom. Faking confidence he didn’t have, Harry carefully typed in the number, making sure all the digits were correct, before hitting call. It rang a few times before someone picked up.

“Hello,” a masculine voice on the other end answered. And Harry was unsure whether to be glad or horrified by that. He hadn’t met Mr. Granger too many times, but this sounded like him a bit, so at least he got the number right.

“Er, can I talk to Hermione, sir?” Harry asked quickly.

“And, who, may I ask, is calling?” Of course her father would want to know who he was, Harry cursed himself, he should have introduced himself first.

“I’m Harry, sir, Harry Potter. Her friend from school,” he added the last part tentatively.

“Oh, Harry,” the man’s voice became more inviting, clearly recognizing his name even though they had only met a few times. “Hold on one second.” Harry heard the phone move and a muffled ‘Hermione!’ being called. “She’ll be down in just a second. How are your holidays going Harry? Glad to be done with work? I know Hermione isn’t, but she’s always been a special one.”

“Er, yeah, it’s nice to not have to do school work everyday,” Harry answered, unsure about how to act in this situation. 

“Well, Hermione has already started on her Summer work, I’d wager you haven’t?” The man asked with some humor.

“Not yet, sir.” Harry heard a knock on the door to the hotel room and assumed from Dick’s voice that the food was here. The mouthwatering smell confirmed that theory rather quickly and Harry felt his stomach rumble.

“It was nice talking to you, Harry, but Hermione’s here, so I’ll just hand you off to her. Have a nice Summer!” Harry bid a hasty goodbye before the phone switched hands and Hermione’s voice came on the line.

“Harry? Is that really you?” She asked.

“Yeah.” Even though it had only been a couple days, Harry missed his friend’s voice.

“Are you okay? Do you need help?” She sounded worried and that gave Harry the confidence to ask his question. 

“Could I stay with your family for the Summer holiday?” Harry asked hurriedly, scared that if he asked it too slowly he would lose his nerve. Just like ripping off a band aid. Fast and without thinking about it too hard first.

“Oh, Harry, yes! Of course you could stay with me!” Hermione answered immediately, and Harry was touched about how quickly she agreed. There was a momentary pang of sadness about leaving Dick and Mr. Wayne, but it was over run with a fondness for his best friend and how dependable she always was. Hermione was always someone to count on.

“But, ah,” she started again before trailing off. 

Not liking the hesitation in her voice, Harry pushed on. “But what?”

“I’m not sure,” Hermione said after a second. “That is, I don’t know if I should tell you over the phone, but I guess, no one who would care would listen to a muggle device, so it is probably safe,” her rambling led to a conclusion and Harry waited to hear what she had to say. “You see, Professor Dumbledore approached my parents and told them that I could stay with,” she paused, uncertainty filling her tone. “A group of people, for a bit of the Summer, my parents want to travel, you see. But, I’m sure you could come too Harry!”

Harry’s fury rose at the mention of Dumbledore and secret plans and peaked when she didn’t tell him the whole truth. “So now you’re keeping secrets too, Hermione?” He accused.

“Harry, it’s dangerous! You know that _he’s_ back we all need to be careful,” she cautioned, but Harry felt the rage continue to build.

“Yeah, I do know,” Harry snapped. “I was there when he came back, and he tried to kill me again. It’s a bit hard to forget!”

“I know,” Hermione hastened to assure him. “But I think we need to be careful, Harry.”

“Why does being careful always lead to me being in the dark!?” He shouted at her.

“I’m sure no one meant it that way, Harry. I bet if we just talk to Professor Dumbledore-” He cut her off, not wanting to hear anymore.

“You know what? I’m done listening to Dumbledore. I’ll just stay somewhere else!”

“Oh, wait, Harry!” But he had already pulled the phone away from his ear and jabbed the red disconnect button. He found himself oddly wishing he had the Dursley’s house phone so he could slam it back into the cradle like Vernon did when those ‘no-good, money-stealing’ telemarketers called. Seeing the call disconnect didn’t do anything about the rage boiling in Harry’s gut. Now everyone was keeping secrets from him, even Hermione! Hopefully, Ron’s letter tomorrow would have better news in it.


	7. Dinner is Served

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not listen to the Annie soundtrack while I write this fic. Not gonna confirm. Also, I think my main plot hole has been fixed please say nice things guys, I made an effort to sort of fix it. No one mentioned Bruce’s great Dad joke last chapter and that made me super sad, so you all owe me. Also, it’s the 19th of June, which is my birthday, so, yeah, feel free to leave a comment as a birthday gift ;)
> 
> RECAP: Mary Grayson nee Dursley had a son, Dick, who came to visit his only living relatives, the Dursleys. Dick is not thrilled to learn how they treat their other nephew, Harry, so Dick, with the help of his trusty side-kick Bruce Wayne, sort of kidnap Harry. Harry, has sent word to his friends that he is looking for alternative accommodations, but that doesn’t seem to be going well… 
> 
> From the last chapter:
> 
> “I’m sure no one meant it that way, Harry. I bet if we just talk to Professor Dumbledore-” He cut her off, not wanting to hear anymore.
> 
> “You know what? I’m done listening to Dumbledore. I’ll just stay somewhere else!”
> 
> “Oh, wait, Harry!” But he had already pulled the phone away from his ear and jabbed the red disconnect button. Seeing the call disconnect didn’t do anything about the rage boiling in Harry’s gut. Now everyone was keeping secrets from him, even Hermione! Hopefully, Ron’s letter tomorrow would have better news in it.

Harry took a moment to fume at the phone in peace for a minute. He fought the urge to throw it across the room because it wasn’t his and that would probably be rude. 

The smell of food coming from the other room caused his stomach to growl, so Harry took a deep breath and decided to push the conversation out of his mind for the moment. He took another deep breath, and walked back into the shared common space. 

Dick and Bruce were sitting across from each other at the table, with their food in front of them, but untouched as they were in the middle of a conversation. The food all looked just as amazing as it smelled, and Harry was only stopped from sitting at his place because it seemed like they were having a private conversation.

“Percy thinks it would have to take at least week,” Wayne was telling Dick. “The laws are in place for a reason, so he doesn’t think he can get around them, but he’s looking into it. Ah, hello Harry,” Wayne said to him. “Take a seat and dig it.”

“Here’s your phone.” Harry set the phone down on the table as he sat next to Dick. The phone began to ring as soon as he set it down on the table. The screen clearly displayed the number that he had just called, Hermione’s number, and Harry hit the red button on the screen to stop it before he took a big bite of the food. Soft and warm, and practically melting on his tongue, Harry almost forgot how angry he was a second ago. The protein, some type of flaky fish, was amazing and new. The vegetables, and Harry couldn’t even tell what they were because surely a vegetable could not be this delicious, had just the right amount of crunch to not make the dish one note, and there was some delicious sauce that Harry couldn’t possibly guess the content of, but he could probably eat a liter of it. Harry almost thought he could die happy after eating this.

“I take it the call didn’t go well?” Dick asked, kindly ignoring the minor food crisis Harry was having.

Harry swallowed what was in his mouth hastily before he lied. “No, she’s going abroad with her family.” 

Harry ignore the looks that Wayne and Dick exchanged in favor of eating more of his food. The phone on the table began to ring again and Harry scowled at it before hitting the red button with more force than necessary. 

“Maybe you should answer that,” Wayne suggested. Despite how nice and accepting Wayne had been, Harry could not stop his harsh response even if he wanted to.

“Yeah, well, _maybe_ , I don’t want to,” Harry answered mulishly before eating another bite and glaring at his plate. Not that the food did anything wrong. It was perfect.

Harry still saw the look exchanged across the table by the other two, and he felt momentarily bad about his tone, but Hermione’s secrets and lies were still rattling around in his head.

“Perhaps,” Wayne started, and one of his eyebrows was raised and his lips were pursed, and for a moment he reminded Harry of Professor Mcgonagall right before she would give a detention. Dick was very focused on eating his pasta, and he seemed to be trying to perfectly twirl it around his fork.

“Perhaps,” Wayne continued. “You could enlighten us as to what happened, Harry?”

Somehow Wayne’s calm tone switched to reminded Harry all too much of Dumbledore, who always seemed to know everything, yet never return the favor to Harry. Harry felt the anger practically churning in his gut, sparking into what seemed may have been a colossally bad idea, but, well, in for a penny…

“Well, _perhaps_ ,” Harry answered as he stood up, forcing his chair back so aggressively that it fell to the floor and slamming his hands on the table so he could lean over towards Wayne. He tried to make his tone soft like Wayne’s, but his anger wasn’t particularly soft. “ _Perhaps_ , I don’t want to do that either.” 

“Sit back down, Harry,” Wayne ordered, and he still looked perfectly calm, and how could he still have his damn eyebrow raised as Harry was practically boiling inside?”

“I don’t want to.”

Dick’s fork clattered on his plate, but Harry was too busy staring Wayne down to look over. Wayne’s face didn’t hold any expression other than that raised eyebrow and Harry thought that maybe if he stared at it hard enough he might be able to bring some accidental magic to this fight.

“We are having dinner together, Harry. Sit back down,” Wayne said, still maintaining eye contact and that damn eyebrow was still there. Harry was starting to feel like, perhaps, in some way, he may have over reacted.

“Why should I?” Harry asked, still standing, but his tone was less forceful than last time. 

Wayne took a deep breath, and, thank God, the eyebrow went down. “I understand that you are going through a large upheaval in your life at the moment, but that does not excuse your current behavior, young man. We are going to have a civil conversation because you are currently a child who needs to find a place to go, and we want to help.”

While the sentiment was good, the moment Wayne called him a child Harry felt the rage bubbling up again, stronger than before.

“I am not a child,” Harry told Wayne with probably more force than necessary, if Wayne’s brief moment of eye-widening surprise was any indication.

“You’re fourteen,” Wayne pointed out, controlling his surprise at Harry’s sudden raised voice. “That makes you still legally a child, at least in the eyes of the government.”

“I don’t care what the government says,” Harry spat out. “I don’t care what you say, what the Dursley’s say, what Dumbledore says, or anyone else! I watched Cedric Diggory get killed and Voldemort come back to life, and I played in that bloody tournament and lived to talk about that and all the other stuff I’ve had to deal with because I’m Harry freaking Potter! So, none of you have any right to order me around or not tell me things just because of how old I am!”

Harry was panting by the end of the tirade, and seeing Wayne shocked expression and Dick’s horrified one sort of made the anger drain out of him. Suddenly exhausted, Harry grabbed his chair back up from the floor and slumped back into it. His food was still in front of him, so Harry picked up his fork and took a large bite.

“So, yeah,” Harry mumbled with food in his mouth, drained from his outburst. “I’m not just a child.”

Harry was still chewing and staring down at his food, a bit uncomfortable with looking up at the people he just yelled at, when Dick and Wayne seemed to come back to their senses a few seconds later.

Dick grabbed Harry in a tight hug, which was really uncomfortable and awkward since they were still sitting in chairs and Harry was still holding his fork in his hand when he returned the hug tentatively. Harry’s chin ended up hooked over Dick’s shoulder, so he was facing Wayne who look pained, but still forced a tight smile when he caught Harry’s eyes.

“It sounds like quite the story you have,” Wayne finally said into the tense silence. “I think you should start from the beginning.” 

Dick nodded and pulled away from the strange hug, ruffling Harry’s hair as he did it. Dick was a weird guy. 

“First, let’s finish dinner, it’s been a long day,” Dick suggested, but then his phone began to ring again, and, sure enough, it was Hermione’s number on the screen. 

“Change of plans,” Dick said quickly as he picked up the phone. “You are going to answer this and apologize to that poor girl, and then tell her you are okay.” Without giving Harry time to argue, Dick pulled Harry out of his chair, shoved him into their shared bedroom, while answering the call and shoving it to Harry’s ear.

“What?” Harry asked, more out of surprise than real indignation, but the door shut behind him and Dick didn’t respond. His hand was clutching the phone to his ear so it didn’t fall to the ground.

“Oh, Harry, you answered,” Hermione breathed. Her voice was quiet, but laced with happiness, not unlike the tone she used on her evil cat when he was feeling particularly aggressive.

“I am sorry about what I said,” she quickly continued, almost without taking a breath. “Of course you deserve to know what’s going on. It’s just, oh Harry, I don’t know what is happening either, and the few things I was told, I was told not to tell anyone in case anyone else overheard. I’m scared, and I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered slowly. “But, that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

“Of course not, Harry!” Hermione reassured. “Are you okay? Why did you want to stay with me over the Summer?”

“I’m okay, Hermione.” He took a deep breath. “You know how my relatives aren’t the nicest.” Harry took her snort as agreement. “Well, when I got back yesterday there was someone else there, apparently my uncle also has a nephew.”

“Was he terrible too?” Hermione interrupted with her breathless I-need-to-know-the-answer tone, so Harry knew she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“No,” Harry answered. “No, he is really great actually. Way nicer than the Dursleys. I’m actually not sure how they are related. But, anyway, he didn’t like how they were treating me, so he and his father sort of brought me back to their hotel and offered to bring me back to their house.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sounded like she might cry, and Harry wasn’t totally sure why, but she continued before he could ask. “I am so sorry that I never helped you with your awful relatives, I just didn’t know how, you have to understand, but I am so glad someone is helping you out.”

“Er, thanks Hermione,” Harry answered, a little embarrassed from her words. He heard her sniff, and her next words sounded less tearful.

“You’ve only known them for two days, and they want you to come stay with them? That sounds suspicious, Harry. Are you sure it is safe?” Hermione questioned rather firmly.

“I know it sounds weird, but, I mean, we are kind of cousins, and they’ve been really great, Hermione. I’m actually thinking I might go with them, at least for a bit.”

“If you think you can trust them, it might not be a bad idea,” Hermione answered nervously. 

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Dick’s voice followed it. “Your food’s getting cold, Harry!”

“Who was that?” Hermione asked. 

“That was Dick, my sort of cousin.” Harry explained. “We were eating dinner when you called, and I should probably get back to it.”

“You mean you were eating dinner while you were ignoring my calls,” Hermione corrected, and, well, she wasn’t wrong.

“Er, yeah, that,” Harry admitted. 

“Go eat dinner,” Hermione decided, and Harry was thankful she wasn’t angrier. “And, I want you to call me tomorrow. And, you are going to keep me updated on what’s happening. And, if anything seems strange with these people, you should call me, yes?”

“Yes, Hermione,” Harry promised. “Bye.”

“Have a nice dinner,” she replied as she hung up. Well, that had gone better than he expected. 

Wayne wasn’t at the table when Harry returned. “He had another work call,” Dick explained, then encouraged him to finish his food. It wasn’t as warm as it was, but it didn’t get any less delicious. 

Harry finished ravenously, and answered Dick’s questions about how his call with Hermione went. He had been finished with his food for a few minutes when Wayne reemerged from his bedroom. There seemed to be some sort of silent signal, as Harry and Dick both got up from the table and moved into the sitting area behind it. Harry sat himself down on the couch, while Wayne took an armchair on the far side, and Dick plopped himself down cross legged on the coffee table. Once they were seated comfortably, Wayne spoke. 

“Now start from the beginning,” he ordered. And Harry went readily into his tale. 

He started with explaining the background of Voldemort, Wayne didn’t like his lack of history knowledge much, but Harry was only an infant at the time. Harry then went into the murder of his parents, which was emotional, but they got through it. He then skipped to when he was eleven and got into Hogwarts, and learned about magic. He talked a bit about Quirrel and Voldemort and the whole Stone mess. Then he talked about the basilisk problem the school, and how that was resolved, and how he felt a bit bad for the idiot Lockhart. He talked about Sirius Black and time turners and made sure to stress his innocence and Pettigrew's blame. He explained the incident at the quidditch world cup, and then the whole blasted tournament, and everything that happened during it. 

After telling his story, in full and with no more yelling, with pauses for questions and for more in depth explanations when asked, Harry actually felt a bit better. Dick and Wayne had been avid listeners, not interrupting besides asking for more detail, some of which Harry couldn’t give, which seemed to worry them. They had seem horrified at certain parts, and Harry had to admit that fighting Quirrel deep below Hogwarts and killing a giant snake and facing soul sucking monsters, and seeing Voldemort be reborn was pretty awful in retrospect. They also seemed rather disappointed in the many details that Harry just didn’t know, so Harry tried to answer all their questions as well as he could, even if they were strange questions. Why would they care about if the Dursleys had taken Harry school shopping? Or why he had the ability to speak Parseltongue? Or Sirius’ lack of trial? Or how he felt about his teacher really being a Death Eater? And a million other things because they had more questions than Hermione ever could. 

Dick had been asking Harry a question about the Tournament, about the maze and how that was monitored, when Wayne stood up abruptly and informed them it was time for bed. 

“Harry, you’ve had a long day,” Wayne said, running a hand through his hair and looking troubled at a point above Harry’s head. “And, a long life by the sound of it, but it is getting late, and I think you and Dick should head to bed.” He looked down at Harry, straight in the eye. “Just know that nothing you have said here changes anything about what we’ve said. You are still more than welcome to come with us over the Summer, and longer, if you want. Or, if you have somewhere else you would like to go, we are more than happy to help you get there.”

For a moment, Harry thought Wayne might go for a hug or a hair ruffle or something, but Wayne just swept out of the room and shut his bedroom door behind him. Dick and Harry had exchanged looks, but shuffled into their room as they were told.

Getting ready for bed was a quiet affair. Harry didn’t realize just quite how long he had been talking, nor how exhausting that, along with the rest of his day, had been. His feet were practically dragging by the time he was crawling into bed. But, while his body was tired, Harry’s mind was still racing over all that had happened today. 

Wayne was strange. Almost as strange as Dick. Harry didn’t think he could recall another time when an adult listened to him for that long. It was nice to be able to explain everything, and to complain about how unfair it was and seemingly not be judged for it. 

Suddenly, a horrifying thought occurred to Harry, and he just had to voice it to the other occupant in the room. 

“Do you think Wayne’s mad at me?” Harry asked in a whisper to the dark room. 

“Mad at you?” Dick whispered back, clearly perplexed. Harry heard some shuffling of the sheets and assumed Dick turned to face him despite the darkness in the room. “No, he’s not mad at you, why would you think that?” 

“Well,” Harry fiddled with his covers and turned to face Dick too, even if it was too dark to see him. “I sort of yelled at him earlier, and then he just sent us to bed.”

“Well it’s been a long day, and you were yawning, so it is good to sleep. And Bruce just wants to mull over what you said. He’s probably calling the people he knows in the magical world to learn more about it as well. He likes knowing things,” Dick explained, then he laughed softly. “And, kid, if you think that was yelling, you should see some of Bruce and my fights. I’ve heard they’re terrifying to witness.”

“You and Wayne fight?” Harry asked because he honestly couldn’t picture it at all. Both seemed too calm to get into a real screaming match.

“Oh, yeah, we were kind of awful for a bit,” Dick confided. “It’s gotten better since then, we still fight, but not as much, but, yeah, when I was, like, fifteen and sixteen, it was really bad. I actually moved in with my friends Megan and Conner for a little while.”

“What were you fighting about?” Harry asked.

Dick took a moment to respond and Harry wondered if he fell asleep, then realized the question was probably very personal to Dick, and was about to tell him he didn’t have to answer when Dick responded.

“It had to do with Jason,” Dick finally admitted to the dark room. Harry felt his stomach drop because Jason, Dick’s dead brother, was probably a touchy subject, and if Dick was angry when Jason joined his family, how would he act if Harry came to stay?

“Were you mad about him coming to live with you guys?” Harry asked tentatively, blaming the darkness for the reckless and, most likely, rude question.

“No, nothing like that. I was thrilled that Jay was there,” Dick promised, but his tone was more distant. Harry wanted to tell Dick he didn’t have to keep going, but he couldn’t get the words out in time. “Bruce promised Jason something that was mine,” Dick continued. “Bruce wanted me to grow out of it and become my own person, and then he wanted Jason to have it, so Jason could grow as well.” Dick gave a wry laugh. “All I heard, though, was that he wanted to take something that was mine, so I screamed at him and left.”

“What happened?” Harry asked. Obviously, Dick and Wayne were on better terms now, so it had to have gotten resolved.

“Well, Bruce and I are bad at admitting we’re wrong, so I was staying with my friends, and he was staying back home. Finally, Jason came and found me, and he thought it was all his fault, which it wasn’t, but he was crying and apologizing, so I had to explain that Bruce was being an idiot. But, Bruce came looking for Jason and heard all of it, and he explained his point of view, and we worked it out, so it was alright in the end.”

“Oh,” Harry answered, not completely understanding what the problem had been, but glad it had been solved.

“Bruce and I still fight occasionally, but after that we learned to listen to each other a bit more. Trust me, Bruce is used to dealing with people being angry at him,” Dick promised. “And, he was serious about you coming back with us. I know you and I aren’t related by blood, and we haven’t known each other very long, but you should seriously think about it.”

“Yeah, I will,” Harry answered, and he didn’t know what to say next, but felt himself yawn. “I think I’m going to go to sleep now. Night.” 

“Goodnight, Harry,” Dick said as he rolled back over. 

Harry meant to stay up and contemplate what he was going to do. Should he go with these people or try and crash on whatever Hermione was doing? But what if he got sent back to the Dursleys? No, surely the Dursleys wouldn’t let him back after this debacle. Staying with Ron could be nice. He knew the Weasley’s, and he had stayed with them in the past. But, he knew how full that house already was, plus their money was rather tight, and he doubted they would accept money from him. But, there was still a feeling in the back of his mind that it could be nice to go with Dick and Wayne. 

Before he could come to any clear decision, Harry felt himself drift off to sleep. 

\-------------------------

_The dream was different this time. Usually it was murky, twisted versions of the graveyard, sometimes with a nice memory of a dementor or a basilisk or even that bright green light thrown in. But tonight, tonight it was a familiar horror._

_He remembered the moment in perfect detail, in a way that dreams rarely ever were. He could feel himself secured to the statute, felt the sharp parts that dug into his back, felt how cold it was despite the layer of cloth that should have blocked that, felt the restraints and how they bruised his flesh. The pain in his arm, where Wormtail the traitor had stabbed him, throbbed painfully. Harry tried to cling to the fact that this was a dream, but that thought seemed to elude him the more he tried to concentrate on it. It didn’t seem like a dream. Maybe it wasn’t._

_The back of Voldemort’s head, pale and practically glowing in the darkness of the graveyard, was in front of him. Clear, sharp and focused. Looking beyond that, Harry could see the circle of followers in their masks, pale and bright, surrounded by darkness. The edge of Harry’s vision was blurred and watery, filled with tears he was not going to shed in this awful place, surrounded by these horrible people._

_Voldemort was speaking and Harry had to strain to pay attention to the words, they were soft and hissed in that high and dangerous voice Voldemort had. Suddenly, the words became crystal clear in his mind, and the sudden volume made Harry’s scar hurt. "But how to get at Harry Potter?” Voldemort thundered in his mind. “For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there."_

_The pain in Harry’s head intensified to an unbearable level, and Harry felt the statue he was affixed to shake in a dangerous manner that he didn’t remember ever happening._

Harry sat up in bed suddenly, almost violently banging heads with Dick, who had been leaning over him, but pulled his head away in time.

“Breath Harry! You need to breath!” Dick was saying and the door opened up behind him, and suddenly Wayne was in the doorway. 

“Is everything alright?” Wayne was asking, but it sounded like he was talking from far away to Harry. 

“I think so,” Dick responded, his face was right in front of Harry, so it was strange that his voice sounded far away as well. “Harry, what happened? You need to breath, here match my breathing.”

The dream, which a moment ago had been a haze of fear and mostly just gave Harry the overwhelming urge to not go back to sleep, now focused into sharp clarity. Wards. He was surrounded by magical wards when he was with the Dursleys. Now that Voldemort had a body again, he would definitely come after Harry. And if he was at Wayne’s house, with Dick and everyone else, they could all get hurt. Too many people were getting hurt because of him. 

“I can’t,” Harry got out in between gasps of air. 

“Of course you can,” Dick encouraged. “You’re already doing it.”

“No,” Harry replied, frustrated that he wasn’t being understood. “I can’t. I can’t go with you.”

“Why not?” Wayne asked gently as he sat down on Harry’s other side. “What was your dream about?”

“Not a dream.” Harry shook his head vigorously. “It was a memory.”

Dick and Wayne exchanged a look above Harry’s head, but Harry didn’t have the patience to ask them to explain. “A memory about what?” Dick asked tentatively, and Harry suddenly noticed that Dick’s hand was absently running up and down his back, following the rhythm that Dick had been trying to get him to breath with.

“There’s wards, magical wards,” Harry tried to explain. “That Dumbledore apparently set up around the Dursley’s house. It is safe there from Voldemort. I can’t go with you, you could get hurt.”

“Harry, do you think there is any imminent danger?” Wayne asked seriously. “Do you think there could be an attack tonight?”

“No,” Harry answered, surprised by the question. “He just got his body back, and no one knows I left the Dursleys yet anyway. But it’s ancient magic and only works when I’m with my relatives, so it won’t work with you.” 

“Yes, I understand that, Harry,” Bruce promised. “And, tomorrow we can look more into that and see if we can learn more about it, but right now I think you should go back to sleep.”

Harry suddenly looked around him. Both of the men were in what clearly constituted as pajamas and their hair was messy from sleep. A quick glance at the hotel room clock showed it was nearly four in the morning. 

“Yeah, I should go back to sleep,” Harry replied as he laid back down, shrugging Dick’s hand on his back off him in the process. It was nice of both of them to be polite when Harry woke them up at an ungodly hour in the morning,

Wayne put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed it briefly before making his way out of the room. “We will talk more about this tomorrow, Harry. I promise. But, for now, you should get some more sleep.”

Harry felt Dick run a hand through his hair before making his way back over to his own bed. Dick tossed and turned for a few moments to get settled. Harry suddenly felt very tired again and pressed his head more firmly into the pillow.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry wasn’t completely sure if he responded or not before sleep took him again.


	8. Decision Time (And Muffins)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys know youtube has a looping feature? I just learned this and now I have been listening to the same song for three days straight. Also this was supposed to be out like a week ago but I’ve been marathoning the 2003 Fullmetal Alchemist and yeah that was sort of making me cry, so this was getting too angsty for no reason. But I have fixed it! Promise! 
> 
> You might notice that I took Jason’s name out of the tags. I realized I need more time before he can come in, so I will add him back into the tags when his entrance is closer. Jason Todd WILL show up in this fic, and be a big part of it, however, he is still believed dead now. 
> 
> WHAT’S GOING DOWN: Dick and Bruce kinda kidnapped Harry, and he’s at a hotel with them and debating if he wants to go with them for the Summer. He wrote to Ron is and awaiting a response.

Harry woke up once again in an unfamiliar place. The hotel room was a bit more surprising than the Dursley’s guest bedroom, but yesterday had been a strange day on the whole. Feeling unusually well rested, Harry rolled over to the clock on the bedside table and pulled his glasses on so the numbers weren’t just a glowing blur. Ten-thirty AM. Apparently sleeping for a full night and most of the morning was becoming a habit, which Harry was not going to complain about. Just being able to lay in a be without having to avoid the Dursleys was a wonderful feeling.

There was at least one voice talking beyond the bedroom door, but Harry couldn’t make out the exact words until he heard his own name enter the conversation. Curious, he pulled himself out of bed. The door out of the bedroom was closed, so Harry put his ear to it in an attempt to hear more of the conversation.

“-Strange that they hadn’t even mentioned someone else living in the house until he got there,” Dick was saying to someone else, and Harry assumed Dick was referring to him and the Dursleys. Dick continued. “But, I liked Harry better than the Dursleys, so we were hanging out, and I heard some things and saw some things, and it was not a pleasant picture, Alf.”

“That sucks,” A younger voice answered, but there was a weird tinny quality that Harry found strange.

“Language, Master Timothy,” Another voice said sharply. This voice sounded much older, and had a much more familiar accent than the American ones Harry had been surrounding himself with. The voice also had the strange mechanical quality of the other. The old man continued despite protests from the younger voice. “It sounds like the boy was in a tight spot, and it was good you got him out.”

“Yeah,” Dick responded. “Bruce and I are trying to help him get somewhere else. But we also invited him to come back with us.”

Harry heard a sigh from one of the others. “I presume I will need to prepare a bedroom then?” The older man asked, but he seemed to already know the answer. “To think, I used to complain about this house being empty.”

Dick laughed. “That’s probably a good idea, Alfie. Timmy, you wouldn’t mind would you?”

Harry held his breath. This must be Dick’s other family, and he must have been talking to them over the phone or something, explaining the weird quality to the other voices. Dick was asking them if Harry could be welcomed in their home. Harry had already heard the offer from Wayne, and didn’t realize that it could be taken back by these others. Part of Harry wanted to shout the injustice that this offer could be taken away, but another part told him that this family did not deserve to be put through his troubles.

“Is he nice?” The kid, Tim Harry reminded himself, asked tentatively, and Harry wondered what Dick would say to that. 

“I don’t know him too well, yet, Tim,” Dick admitted and Harry deflated a bit at that less than glowing report. But Dick continued. “But, he seems pretty great. Needs a few hugs and a room to call his own, but the manor’s got plenty of both of those.”

“He can have the room across from me,” Tim decided after a moment in which Harry forgot how to brath, and Harry felt himself flush at that. This family was amazing, even the ones who hadn’t met him yet were willing to welcome him with open arms. 

“Slow down, Timmy,” Dick said laughing. “Harry hasn’t even decided if he wants to come back with us yet.”

“Still,” The older man that Harry didn’t know pointed out. “It is always best to be prepared. How soon do you believe we will see you and Master Bruce, and perhaps the young man?” This whole ‘Master’ business was weirding Harry out, but Dick seemed to be perfectly content with it. 

“Well, you know Bruce, he wants to be back in Gotham ASAP,” Dick told them. “But, we are waiting to see what Harry wants to do. If he wants to come back with us, then we have to get some legal work put through, but Bruce doesn’t think that would take no more than a week, or a couple days if he has anything to say about it.”

“Patience has never been Bruce’s strong suit,” Tim pointed out and both the younger men laughed. Harry was starting to feel bad about how much he was putting this family out. Wayne was supposed to be on his way home today, according to Dick, but he was staying because of Harry. It was nice to dream about this wonderful and open family, but he was really inconveniencing them. 

“It’s not too bad staying her for a few extra days. I never get a vacation like this,” Dick commented and Tim laughed again. “Anyway, we will be home soon, maybe with an extra person, if Bruce has his way.”

“He usually does,” Tim interjected helpfully. 

“True,” Dick acknowledged. 

“Does he know about the, ah, nightlife, in Gotham?” Tim asked hesitantly, and Harry was a bit confused. The nightlife? Maybe people from Gotham were really into clubbing? Harry decided it didn’t really matter too much in the long run. 

“No, but I’m sure Harry’ll figure it out fast,” Dick answered with a laugh, and Harry was a bit reassured by Dick’s lack of bad reaction. “Everyone in that house picks up on it eventually.”

“Some faster than others,” Tim shot back. Dick laughed again.

“Fair point, kid. Well, I’ll call you sometime tomorrow. Bruce is going on all sorts of adventures today to get some things straightened out, so call me if you need anything.”

“Bye, Dick!” Tim said, and Dick responded before he presumably ended the call. Harry took a step back from the uncomfortable position of leaning on the door. 

Not wanting to seem like he was listening, Harry took a few minutes to look around the room and get himself together. Dick’s bed was still a mess of covers and a few of the pillows were on the ground, so Harry decided against making his own bed. 

The conversation he had overheard was reassuring. It seemed like this family might actually want him. Harry felt a bit bad about inconveniencing them to stay away from their home for longer than they intended, but it was so nice to see people trying to help him. It could be really nice to go with them. Harry could hardly believe that he was even contemplating it, he barely knew them! This was crazy. But, well Gryffindors pride themselves in being brave and taking risks. 

This family seemed like a risk that could be really worth it. 

A rumble from his stomach made Harry hope there was some food in the kitchen. Deciding that enough time had passed for it not to be suspicious, Harry left the bedroom and went into the common area. Dick was sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, and he had a laptop resting on his legs that he seemed to be reading from. He was dressed for the day already and Harry had a brief moment of panic that maybe he should have gotten dressed.

“Good morning, Harry,” Dick greeted, without looking up from his screen, his eyes were going back and forth very rapidly, whatever he was reading must have been important. “I picked up some muffins from a cafe nearby for breakfast. They’re on the table.”

“Thanks,” Harry answered before going over to the table. Hedwig was perched on top of one of the chairs again. A letter was tied to her leg, and she shifted as she woke up when Harry came closer. Harry untied the letter, recognizing Ron’s messy scrawl on the front. Hedwig nipped his fingers gently before going back to sleep. 

Deciding food was more important than Ron’s reply for the moment, Harry sorted through a bag of muffins. There were four in there of varying kinds, but Harry wasn’t sure which was which and they all smelled delicious, so he just put his hand in and took the first one his hand touched. 

“There’s some juice in the fridge,” Dick said from the couch. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a few different kinds.” 

The fridge was strange because it was a full sized fridge, empty except for a few small bottles of juice. Taking an orange juice, Harry sat down at the table to give Dick some space in whatever he was up to. The muffin was as delicious as it smelled, some kind of apple and cinnamon flavor. It was gone sooner than Harry wanted it to be, but he decided he wasn’t hungry enough to have another muffin. 

Finishing his food and sweeping the crumbs off the table and into the trash, Harry opened up the letter from Ron. 

_Harry,_

_Summer so far has been a bust. We aren’t staying at the Burrow this year, which is awful. We’re at this old house and Mum keeps making us clean. It’s been bloody awful. The house is big, though, so you would definitely have a place to stay! I reckon another hand with the cleaning wouldn’t be a bad thing, either. Right now I have to stay in a room with Fred and George, but we’ve been cleaning another one out for me and you could share. I think it might be another bed under all that dust. Or a desk. But I’m sure there’s another bed in this house somewhere. Whether it’s safe to sleep in is another matter entirely. Ginny had a problem with her bed shrinking and growing randomly last night! Mum fixed it, but it was still weird._

_I’ll ask Mum and Dad as soon as possible. They’re busy right now, I don’t know with what. There’s a lot of things I haven’t been told. But, I have a feeling that if I mention it in front of the owner of the house, he’ll be into it. He’s an old friend of ours. Sometimes responds to the name ‘Snuffles’? I’d get Fred and George to help me get you again, but Mum said we aren’t supposed to leave, too many wards or something._

_Anyway, I’ll send Hedwig back now, but I’ll get Pig to bring you my parents’ answer as soon as I can talk to them._

_Take care,  
Ron_

The beginning of Ron’s letter made Harry smile, and almost made him forget the tempting offer of going back to America with Wayne and his family. But Ron was with Sirius for some reason. Sirius was staying in a house, a magically protected house, and didn’t invite Harry. His Godfather, the only parental influence he had ever really liked, hadn’t invited him to his house. The pain was almost physical in his chest. Sirius had made a halfhearted offer to take Harry in a year ago, and Harry understood that the extenuating circumstances, like being on the run from wizarding law, made that a bit hard. But why did Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys by the sound of it, get to see Harry’s Godfather before he did? 

“Not a good answer?” Dick asked, from the couch. Harry realized his anger was blatantly displayed on his face and attempted to rectify that. 

“Just something I didn’t want to hear, I guess,” Harry answered.

Dick held up another envelop, this one a little thicker than the last, with his name written on it in Ron’s familiar scrawl. It made Harry angry. “Well, there’s another one, I’m assuming from the same friend?”

“Yeah, that looks like Ron’s handwriting,” Harry answered as he got up from the table and made his way over to Dick. “How’d it get here?”

“A small owl came in a couple hours ago, carrying it. It was pretty loud and excitable for such a little thing. Bruce was worried that it would wake you up, as well as get us asked some uncomfortable questions, plus Hedwig had already gone to sleep and looked like she was going to kill it if it didn’t let her. So, we told the little owl to leave it with us and it did.” Harry laughed as he took the letter from Dick.

“That sounds like Pig, Ron’s owl,” Harry clarified as he sat down. 

“Strangle name for an owl,” Dick commented.

“Yeah,” Harry answered distractedly as he opened up the envelope and two different pages came out. “That’s what he gets for letting his sister read it.”

Harry decided to look at the familiar messy scrawl of Ron’s first. It wasn’t as long as the first, which Harry didn’t find too promising. 

_Harry,_

_Mum and Dad won’t say anything to me, but it doesn’t seem too great for you from what I’ve heard. Sorry, mate. Fred and George told me they would help break you out if you need it. We don’t have the car anymore, but they do have Apparition licenses, so we could help you with a quick getaway. Ginny even offered to fake being ill to distract Mum for a bit. We could hide you somewhere in the house. I don’t know how bad it is with your relatives, so, if you don’t respond by tomorrow, I’m going to send Fred and George after you!_

_Ron_

Harry felt a pang of disappointment at the beginning, but also an unexpected rush of fondness for the Weasley family who was always willing to lend a hand. Even before he had given the twins a big pile of Galleons, they had been there for him. And Ron, even for all their ups and downs, he was still a great friend. Despite that, the fact that Ron was with his godfather was still grating on Harry’s nerves. 

Looking at the next letter, Harry was not very optimistic that it contained any more helpful information. It was done in a tight cursive hand that Harry didn’t recognize immediately. Harry put Ron’s letter to the side and picked up the next one. 

_Harry,_

_I hope you are doing well, dear. Ron showed me your letter, and I am very sorry to see your Summer is not going well. I brought your query up with Professor Dumbledore, and he said that we could have you here in a month hopefully. I would come get you sooner, Harry, but the headmaster insists that this is what’s necessary! You should send Hedwig back, and I can send you some pies. I would send Errol, but I am just not sure he is up for a heavy trip anymore!_

_I know your relatives and you do not always see eye to eye, so let me know how you are doing. I am sure Dumbledore wouldn’t mind if Arthur or I stopped by to have a nice chat with your aunt and uncle just to make sure everything is going well._

_With love,  
Mrs. Weasley_

While the letter from Mrs. Weasley wasn’t exactly what he had hoped for, it definitely wasn’t the worst news he could have gotten. But, still, why would he have to wait so long? He didn’t have anywhere to go for a month, since the Dursley’s was out of the question. Honestly, Dick and his family seemed to be the people who wanted Harry the most, despite not knowing him very long.

For some reason Dumbledore didn’t want him to leave the Dursleys. Harry was momentarily thankful that he didn’t tell Ron that he had already left his relatives. He had a feeling that might not have gone over too well. Ron and his siblings did see pretty willing to help him out, but, considering how perceptive Mrs. Weasley was, Harry doubted he could hide right under her nose, even with her youngest four children helping him. She did seem willing to help him out a little bit, but she didn’t seem willing to go against Dumbledore. 

Harry momentarily wished he could share this unshakable trust in his headmaster, but he just wanted to know what was going on. Was that so wrong? He wanted to be in control of his own life, and maybe be a little bit happy over the Summer holidays while he was at it. Harry decided that he had made up his mind. 

“I think I want to go with you.”

Dick, who had gone back to being engrossed in his laptop while Harry considered the letters, looked up in surprise when Harry spoke. 

“If you and your family are still okay with that,” Harry added hastily. 

Dick beamed at him and threw his laptop rather carelessly to the side of the couch he wasn’t sitting on, before getting up and giving Harry a hug faster than Harry could tell him that, maybe, he should be careful with expensive technology. 

“I’m so glad, Harry,” Dick was saying as he squeezed Harry rather tighter than necessary. “Seriously, you’ll love the manor, and Tim’s excited to meet you so this will be great.”

“The manor?” Harry asked hesitantly, returning the hug with a bit less vigor than Dick. 

“Yeah, Bruce’s house is huge, it’s been passed down through his family for a few generations, but it’s great, and we all just call it the manor. It’s weird at first, trust me, I grew up in a trailer, but it grows on you.”

Dick pulled away from the hug, which Harry was thankful for because, while he was no hugging expert, it seemed to be getting uncomfortably long. Dick didn’t go back to the seat on the couch. Instead he sat right in front of Harry’s chair on the coffee table. The intense eye contact was really weirding Harry out. 

“So,” Harry said after a moment of silence. “Where is Wayne now?”

“Bruce was hoping you would say you would come with us, so I imagine he’s working on the legal matters of getting an unrelated minor out of the country.” 

“Legal matters?” Harry questioned.

“Well, I’m assuming you don’t have a passport?” Harry nodded, so Dick continued. “Well, a guardian has to apply for that for a minor, so Bruce went to talk to your relatives. Plus we need them to write a formal letter giving us permission to take you out of the country, even then customs still might call them, so we need them to cooperate,” Dick explained.

Harry was frowning by the end of this. The Dursleys did not like to help him in any way, this could only end badly for Wayne. “Er, I don’t know how cooperative my aunt and uncle will be. I mean they might, since it would get rid of me, but I wouldn’t be too optimistic.”

Dick’s answering smile could only be described as feral, which was not an adjective Harry thought to ever describe a smile with before this moment, as he consolingly patted Harry’s knee. “Don’t you worry, Harry. Bruce can be very persuasive.”

“Er, if you say so,” Harry agree quickly, but with some doubt he decided not to voice. 

“I’m not sure when Bruce is going to be back,” Dick said, changing the subject. “He talked about doing some other things before coming back, but that doesn’t mean we have to stay here and be bored. I have to finish reading some stuff,” Dick gestured to the laptop sitting precariously on the couch. “But I should be finished soon. Wanna check out the hotel pool?” 

Not having anything better to do, Harry shrugged and agreed. 

“Cool, I shouldn’t be more than like half an hour,” Dick promised. “You can head down without me if you want.”

“I actually have to write my friend back,” Harry told him. “He sort of threatened to have his brother’s come kidnap me if I didn’t.”

Dick laughed and stood up to go back to the couch. “Those are the best kinds of friends. You should probably call your other friend too. Hermione, right?”

Harry had planned to call Hermione later, since she had basically told him he had too, but it was weird that Dick was telling him to. Dick had already made his way to the couch, where he was digging between the cushions for something, before Harry responded. “I was thinking about calling her later.”

Dick something out from the couch in triumph, and Harry recognized it as the man’s phone, right before he threw it at Hary. He fumbled the catch a bit, but it didn’t hit the floor. Seriously, this guy needed to be more careful with his stuff. 

“You should probably call her sooner rather than later,” Dick told him as he took a seat, grabbing his laptop again. “She called me at nine on the dot looking for you. She seems nice. I told her I’d have you call her back once you got up.”

Trying to get over the weirdness of Hermione talking to Dick, and giving himself a brief moment to be horrified over what could have been said, Harry made his way back to the bedroom. “Okay, I’ll just do that then.”

Dick waved, but was again thoroughly engrossed in his laptop screen. Harry shut the door to give them each some privacy, and then quickly debated if he should write to Ron or call Hermione first. He settled on Hermione, since she seemed so eager to talk to him, plus he wasn’t sure what exactly to say to Ron and Hermione could help with that.

Dialing the now familiar number, Harry held the phone up to his ear and waited. Hermione picked up after only a few rings.

“Hi, Harry!” she greeted.

“How did you know it was me?” Harry asked, confused on the personal greeting.

“We do have caller ID, Harry,” Hermione answered like it was obvious, so Harry decided not to question whatever the heck that was. Not like he had time, because Hermione kept going. “So, how are you? You must have slept a long time. I called earlier, but Dick said you were asleep. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah I did, thanks. And I’m doing okay.”

“Dick seems nice,” Hermione said when Harry didn’t say anything else. “Did you know he used to be an acrobat?” Harry hummed in acknowledgement as Hermione continued. “His father Bruce Wayne has a lot of money. Apparently, he runs a big company, Wayne Industries. My dad recognized his name from the magazines that are in the waiting room of my parents’ office. He says that there are a lot of unseemly rumors about him, but we both know how bad reporters can be.”

Harry knew exactly how bad reporters could be considering the mess of things that Rita Skeeter had printed out Harry and all his friends, including Hermione, during the tournament last year. Although, Tim’s comment earlier about the ‘nightlife’ of Gotham made Harry wonder if maybe these rumors about Wayne weren’t too far off the mark. Not that Harry cared one way or the other.

Hermione didn’t seem to need acknowledgment as she continued. “He sounds like a nice man since he does a lot of charity work, and already has taken in three other children. Dick’s the eldest and apparently legally the heir to Wayne Industries. There was a big fuss recently about it. Jason, the middle boy, died recently, the poor family. But the youngest, Tim, is supposed to be some kid genius, which is interesting, I would love to talk to him-”

“How do you know so much about them?” Harry asked, interrupting her flow.

“I Googled them,” Hermione said, as if that was an explanation. Harry didn’t know what that was but it sounded sort of dangerous and maybe a little bit dirty.

“You what?” 

Hermione sighed. “It’s a muggle thing, Harry. Anyway, I think that if you want to go with them, then you should.”

“You do?” Harry asked, momentarily surprised. “I mean, of course it’s a good idea. I thought of it.”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione said, and Harry could practically hear her rolling her eyes, which was pretty impressive. “I still want you to call me frequently, just so I know what’s going on and such.”

“Could you also let Ron know?” Harry asked, and then explained the weirdness of the response to his letters and the strange part of Dumbledore not wanting him to leave his relatives and Harry’s fear of the man learning he had, and bringing him back to them. 

“That is strange about Dumbledore,” Hermione mused, but she seemed to put her thinking to the side for the moment. “But, I don’t think this should go too badly. Even at the height of his power, Voldemort never had too much power outside of Europe, so I doubt he would come and get you, even if he did know where you are. And, I’ll let Ron know what’s going on. Ron and Ginny usually send me letters over the Summer so I can just use Pig to write back and let them know.”

“Thanks Hermione,” Harry said, and hoped she understood that it was for more than just writing to Ron.

“Of course- wait hold on, Harry,” Hermione said, and Harry heard some voices coming from the other end of her line. “I have to go to lunch with my parents now, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Hermione, have a good lunch.” She echoed the goodbye, with another promise to talk to him soon and a reminder to be polite to his hosts. 

The call ended, but a notification on the screen showed a message from someone named Zatanna. Must have been one of Dick’s friends. 

_What have you gotten yourself into this time, boy wonder?_

Feeling bad that he read a text was probably personal to Dick and this person, Harry put the phone down to write a quick response to Ron. 

He promised Ron he was fine, and that he should not send the twins after him. Harry also wrote for Ron to tell his mother he was doing well, there was just a slight disagreement between himself and his relatives. Harry decided to tell Ron that he wouldn’t be able to use Hedwig for a bit, so he would be communicating the muggle way for most of the Summer, and to talk to Hermione about it. Hopefully, Hermione would be able to explain all the details to Ron without fear of that letter being read by the entire worried Weasley clan. 

Regretting that he would have to wake Hedwig up again, Harry finished the letter and addressed it. He picked up Dick’s cell phone to return it and saw that there was another message, this time from someone named Wally. Feeling guilty, but letting curiosity get the better of him, Harry read it.

_Okay so I heard from Bart, who heard from Jaime, who heard from Garfield, who apparently heard from Tim that yoU GUYS ARE TAKING IN YET ANOTHER KID???? Dude don’t bro privileges mean you should tell me first :( Anyway congrats, I hope there’s enough room in the cave ;)_

Dick’s friends were apparently pretty strange. Who called a house a cave anyway? And ‘boy wonder’ was a really strange nickname. Weird friends aside, Harry was pretty excited to see where this was going to go. With Hermione’s blessing and the note ready to send to Ron, Harry felt that he had fully committed to this plan, and he just hoped that the Dursleys wouldn’t give Wayne too much trouble about the passport thing and the other things he apparently needed.

Feeling pretty content with his plan for the first time in a long time, Harry went to wake Hedwig and set it in action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, random question: are people interested in other people’s PoV? I have a couple snippets from Dick, and some ideas about Bruce or the Dursley’s for scenes without Harry. They wouldn’t be super plotty, more just to see things Harry doesn’t. Is that something people are into?


	9. Wayne Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as a response to the random question last time: This is now in a series and some random oneshots will be part of the series from other’s point of view. They are not too plot important, so you don’t have to read them.
> 
> Also someone pointed out that the technology was not right for the Harry Potter timeline, and, shit, yeah, they are totally right. I super forgot to mention that the Harry potter timeline is moved up (I see it as a very timeless story because of the lack of technology). Right now, in the fic it is about 2016. Sorry, I totally forgot readers can’t read my mind!

The rest of June was a blur for Harry. In the two weeks left of the month he had been completely uprooted and placed in a totally new environment. 

Somehow, Bruce convinced the Dursleys to put through the paperwork for Harry to go to America with them. Dick said Bruce had some ‘connections’, Harry was still not convinced this did not just involve Bruce throwing large amounts of money at people, and this made the paperwork apparently not take as long as it could have. Honestly, Harry wouldn’t have minded, he and Dick had been hanging out during the days it took Bruce to do this, and it was already one of the most fun Summers Harry had ever had. 

When Bruce finally announced they were leaving for Gotham, where Bruce and crew apparently lived, Harry was a bit nervous about the plane ride. He had experience with flying using magical means, but he had never really understood how aeroplanes worked. Bruce had explained the science behind it to Harry, and, while it was a bit reassuring to know a lot of thought was put into the process, words like ‘fluid mechanics’ and ‘air flow’ were not exactly comforting to Harry. 

Despite not having any experience on a plane, Harry was pretty sure that it involved more tightly packed rows with little legroom and small packets of peanuts. He did not think it involved wide open spaces with comfortable couches and a fully loaded snack bar. Dick had acknowledged that while no, most people don’t travel like this, but this was Bruce’s plane, so of course it’s nice. Harry may or may not have spit out the sip of soda he had just taken. He knew Bruce had money, but a whole plane? It was a bit ridiculous.

Once they landed, a nice customs agent who seemed to know Bruce greeted them and told them they were all set after very little fan fare. Harry thought the excess wealth was done until they were directed to a limo. Here Harry was introduced to the family butler, no joke they had a butler, who seemed more like a stern but doting grandparent than an employee, as well the other boy, Tim, who was a couple years younger than him and was excited they were all back.

Harry thought nothing could surprise him more, but he changed his mind when they drove up the gated driveway to the grand manor that apparently he was supposed to stay in for the Summer. Deciding that he should just accept that he was going to be horrified by the overt display of wealth, Harry was contentedly dragged on a tour by the younger inhabitants of the manor. 

The tour was long, considering how large the house was, but Harry had a feeling that he hadn’t even seen some of it. Some of it was just ridiculous, like the ballroom.

“What do you need a ballroom for?” Harry had asked, horrified awe in his voice.

Tim had looked at him like he was a moron. “For balls, obviously.”

Dick laughed. “Don’t worry, Harry. Bruce doesn’t host too many parties, and you can probably find an excuse to get out of it if he does.”

They had gone briefly outside, just to see the expansive grounds, and Dick had pointed out some trees that he liked climbing, and they were high enough to make Harry a little woozy. They stopped by the pool, the half basketball court, which Dick promised to teach him how to play, and a weird paved area with strange ramps which Tim said was for his skateboard and offered to teach Harry as well. Harry nodded along, but decided not to point out that maybe this was a bit excessive. 

Harry was led inside and shown the kitchen, which they were shooed out from by Alfred since he was making dinner and did not want to be disturbed, and multiple living rooms with big comfy couches and needlessly large televisions. They showed him Bruce’s office, which Harry felt like maybe they should have knocked but Dick barged right in. Bruce had a phone perched on his ear and was sitting behind the desk. Bruce made an exaggerated face twisted in pain, and Dick laughed at him having to suffer through business calls, and they were shooed out of there pretty quickly as well. 

The three of them then made their way up to the bedrooms. Harry’s room already had his trunk and Hedwig in it. He assumed that Bruce and Alfred brought it up. It was a nice room done in a light blue with matching drapes and bedclothes. Hedwig, rather than being in her cage was comfortably perched on a wooden stand, which seems its only use could be to hold Hedwig and Harry took a moment to feel grateful to this wonderful and open family who won’t force him to keep Hedwig in her cage. The window by Hedwig was open, letting a nice breeze into the big room. 

“You’ll need some posters or something,” Dick said once he looked around. “The walls are bare.”

“You could paint them,” Tim suggested. “The color is nice, but we could find something else too.”

“Good idea, Timmy,” Dick agreed and Harry is wondering why on earth they would want to change anything at all about this beautiful room. 

“No, I think it’s perfect,” Harry said quickly, and Dick had shrugged and said “Well, it’s your room.” And that was that.

Harry’s room was next to a bathroom, which he was dragged past to look at Dick’s room on the other side. The floor of Dick’s room was pretty neat, with a few scattered articles of clothing, but the walls were covered, full of posters, pictures of friends and family, newspaper clippings, tickets to events, and anything else it seemed could be taped to a wall. Harry could barely find a bit of free space in the whole room. 

Tim’s room, on the other hand, had mostly blank walls with a few pieces of artwork that must have been in the room before him. But the floor was a complete disaster. Harry was a little afraid to step into the room, with there being no where to step without hitting some clothes, books, or who knows what else. And Harry was pretty sure he even saw Tim’s laptop under a sweatshirt on the floor. 

Bruce’s room was at the end of the hall, the master bedroom which was closest to Dick’s room, and Harry didn’t get to go in there, but he had a feeling it would be spotlessly clean like most of the rest of the house. The hallway they were in had five other bedrooms. Four were empty and served as guest bedrooms, but the fifth, the one across from Dick’s room and in between Tim and Bruce’s rooms, was closed and it didn’t take a genius to guess that was Jason’s room.

Tim had stayed in his room briefly to answer a text from some person named Bart, when Dick leaned down to tell him something. “Just so you know,” Dick confided. “Timmy usually uses our bathroom, rather than his,” Dick gestured to the bathroom between Tim’s and Jason’s, and Harry understood that some ghosts didn’t need to be touched. 

“That’s fine,” Harry answered quietly and Dick smiled before calling for Tim to hurry up before they missed dinner. 

Dinner was an odd affair. The food was amazing, Harry wasn’t quite sure what he was eating but he knew he wanted more of it. The company was relaxing, conversation seemed to flow easily. Harry felt a bit left out a first, since the rest spent some time talking about people he didn’t know, but the family made an effort to include him in dinner and made promises to introduce him to some of the topics of conversations.

Harry still kept up his calls to Hermione, who seemed content with being the go between him and the Weasleys as well. He always promised her he was doing well, and she nagged him a bit about starting his Summer work. Strangely enough, he had already started the work because Tim had asked him about magic, and having Tim help him with his homework actually seemed to interest the kid. Not that Tim knew much about magic, but he seemed to pick up things quickly. 

Hermione talked about her Summer with her family and some old primary school friends, and Harry returned that by talking about how his Summer was going. He told her all about Tim trying to help with his homework, and Tim trying to teach him how to skateboard in return. Harry wasn’t very good at it yet, but he was trying. Tim also liked to introduce him to new TV shows and video games, much to Dick’s annoyance. Despite the fact that Harry had never had the chance to play video games before, he still soundly beat Dick every time. He had told Tim he was worried Dick was losing on purpose, but Tim had laughed and said that Dick was just bad at them.

Dick had finally gotten fed up with video games, and pulled out a board game for them to play. The rules of Settlers of Catan were confusing at first, but once he got the hang of it, Harry had some fun. He soundly lost the first game to Dick with Tim close behind, but laughed at the squabble the two got into about trading some resources. Bruce had showed up near the end of the game, and Dick somehow roped the man into playing the next game with them. Tim seemed to be out for blood this time, and quickly tried to ruin Dick in any way he could. While that was happening, Bruce offered to make an alliance with Harry, who quickly accepted. This had the benefit that Harry came in second when Bruce crushed all of them at the game with a wicked smirk and no mercy. Dick had claimed that they needed more practice, and they played again. When the same result came, Bruce winning spectacularly, the three boys decided they needed to team up in the next game just to crush Bruce. With the other three players, and occasionally the dice, working against him, Bruce soundly lost the next game, but tried as hard as he could and ended up in third somehow. Before any rematches could be demanded, Alfred informed them it was time for dinner. 

Harry sort of felt like this feeling was what Hermione meant when she said she missed home, And Harry felt like he could get used to this. Hermione had sniffled a little when he told her that, but had seemed happy for him, and made him promise to try and bring the game back to school so she could play it. 

There were things he didn’t tell Hermione, like how some nights, when he woke up from nightmares, Bruce or Dick, or sometimes even Tim, woke up with him and talked to him until he could fall back asleep. Sometimes, if it was particularly bad, Harry was led down to the kitchen by one of them, and Alfred would already have a cup of calming tea and a small snack ready. It was amazing. 

It wasn’t always wonderful in the house, however. For some reason the other occupants were missing a lot. Harry understood that Bruce had a full time job, but the hours he kept were ridiculous because sometimes late at night Harry would be up binge watching some show with Tim and Bruce wouldn’t be back yet. 

Dick and Tim left sometimes as well. Apparently, Dick worked in some private security firm that was very top secret and in some way run by Bruce? Many of Dick’s friends worked for the firm also, it was how some of them had met, Harry had learned. And Tim apparently also occasionally did work for the firm in some kind of internship program. Dick didn’t seem to like talking about his work very much and quickly changed the subject whenever Harry brought it up. He held odd hours, though, and it never seemed to be consistent.

Usually, at least one of the others, besides Alfred, was home at night, but rarely all three ever were, which Harry noticed when he woke them up with his bad dreams. Tim, still have asleep had once revealed that Dick and Bruce were still out when it was three in the morning, but Alfred had quickly changed the subject before Harry could ask. 

Despite the strange hours the family kept, it was still way better than living with the Dursleys, and Harry was incredibly glad he had chosen to go with them. 

A few days into his stay, Harry was corned by Alfred Pennyworth. It was a bit intimidating, because, while Harry had talked to the older man while in the company of everyone else, he had not yet had a conversation with him individually.

Harry was just coming out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth and getting ready for the morning, when he ran, quite literally into Alfred. 

“Ah, Master Harry,” Pennyworth greeted, and Harry still felt a bit weird about the master thing, but he had tried to stop the man enough times to know he should just go along with it. “I was just looking for you.”

Harry tried to fight the urge to attempt to flatten his hair. Pennyworth was always so nice and pristine, it kind of made Harry feel scruffy. 

“Yesterday, I was doing the household’s laundry,” Pennyworth continued without a response from Harry. 

And, yeah, Harry had noticed that the hamper in his room had been emptied, as well as some of the scattered clothes around the room. He had meant to ask Dick about it, but totally forgot when Dick had decided he, Harry, and Tim had to go into the city to get ice cream. 

“Thanks,” Harry interrupted before Pennyworth could continue, which caused the man to raise an eyebrow, so Harry blundered on. “I probably should have said that yesterday, but I forgot. So, er, thanks. And, really, I can do that.”

Pennyworth nodded. “That is very kind of you to offer, and you are very welcome, but not why I am here.” Pennyworth paused. “I am curious about the state of your clothes.”

Harry looked down and felt a blush creeping up his face. “Yeah, they were my cousins. Kinda big on me, but I get by.”

“Well, I don’t think a boy should have to live in badly fitting cast offs, especially not in this house,” Pennyworth said firmly, and Harry was about to apologize for stepping foot in the house and maybe even for existing when Pennyworth continued. “And, that is why we are going shopping.”

Harry thought his jaw might have dropped and his neck might have whiplash from how fast he looked up at the older man. “Shopping?”

“Shopping,” Pennyworth agreed, straight faced.

“But, er, I don’t have any money,” Harry answered then frantically searched for another excuse. 

“Well, Master Bruce has plenty,” Pennyworth answered, and Harry was stopped from protesting by a firm look and a raised eyebrow. “I insist.”

And, that was that honestly. Five minutes later, Harry was sitting in the passenger seat of a car, thankfully not the limo, and he wasn’t totally sure how it happened.

Twenty minutes later Pennyworth was pulling up to a shopping mall and telling Harry he most likely needed an entire wardrobe, since he had burned the clothes Harry had. Harry could honestly not tell if he was joking and was a bit afraid to ask, so had nodded and gone to do as he was told. After picking out a few things, followed around by Pennyworth who seemed content to just drift behind Harry as he flitted to and from the clearance shelves, Harry had decided this was an acceptable amount.

When Harry declared himself done, Pennyworth had simply raised an eyebrow, and Harry had decided that no, maybe he wasn’t done. Pennyworth smiled and wandered off for a bit, and returned with a cart that already had a few items that Harry had forgotten earlier, or simply didn’t pick up because it seemed to expensive. Pennyworth loaded Harry’s armload into the cart, then pushed and prodded Harry with his raised eyebrow until he decided Harry was done. 

When the exhausting trip was over, including loading it all into the trunk, Harry thought he may have actually been pushed to buy an entire wardrobe. From underwear and socks, to clothes for all seasons, to shoes, to pajamas, it seemed like Alfred had accounted for it all. 

When they returned to the manor, Alfred ordered Harry to the kitchen, where apparently lunch was waiting for him, while the older man unloaded the car and told Harry his clothes would be in his room tonight after he laundered them. 

Harry ate his sandwich in a dazed, post-shopping state, but was pulled out of it by Tim coming in and asking if he wanted to go outside and show him how his broom worked. Readily accepting, Harry had all but forgotten about the extensive shopping trip while he was zooming through the air with Tim, and Dick when he came back from his work and demanded to join. 

But, when Harry went back to his room that evening, windswept and a bit dirty and planning on showering than just face planting into his bed, he saw a pair of the new pajamas laid out on the bed. Opening the chest of draws, Harry found them also filled with the neatly folded clothes he had bought this morning, with no trace of his old things. A note was left on top of the dresser in a tight cursive hand. 

_I hope your stay here is long and pleasant, Master Harry. Do not be afraid to ask for anything you may require._

Harry smiled at the note, and carefully folded it and put it in between the pages of _Hogwarts: A History_ for safe keeping. 

It was strange to have people care this much about his wellbeing. Harry’s scar had been hurting a lot recently, and he wasn’t sure if he made a face or if everyone in this house was a mind reader, but it felt like every time his scar so much as twinged, someone asked him about it.

Finally, after about a week of Harry avoiding questions about it, Bruce cornered him and asked him about it. He was hard to say no to, so Harry had confided that, yes his scar hurt sometimes, but he was fine really.

Bruce hadn’t liked that response and dragged Harry to go see a doctor, apparently a friend of the family. Leslie Thompkins was a nice, but stern woman who insisted Harry get a full checkup and even get his head scanned in some fancy ways just to make sure it was okay. After a few days, Doctor Thompkins called to let them know that nothing appeared to be physically wrong with Harry and that medically, he was fine. 

Deciding that he couldn’t do anything about it, Harry tried to ignore the scar, However, a few days later, Bruce told him that Zatanna, apparently a magical friend of his, was coming to check on the house wards again, which Harry didn’t even realize the house had until that moment, and would see if she could find anything magically wrong with him. 

When she arrived that afternoon, Zatanna checked the wards on the house first, but came to find Harry with Bruce and Dick trailing behind her. Alfred had convinced Harry and Tim to take a break from the skateboarding lesson, which may have just devolved into jumping the skateboards into the pool, so they could have a snack. 

She was explaining something complicated about the wards she had set to the two men following her as they entered the kitchen. Bruce and Dick were listening intently and nodding along seeming to understand whatever was happening. Harry caught Tim’s eye, and Tim shrugged in confusion as well. 

“So, Harry, I’m Zatanna and it’s nice to meet you,” Zatanna greeted, directing her attention to him. She seemed nice enough, so Harry greeted her politely after he finished chewing the cookie in his mouth. Bruce and Dick sat down, the latter filching some cookies, while Zatanna came to stand in front Harry. “Your scars been hurting?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It’s happened before but never for this long really.”

“We had him see a doctor,” Bruce added. “She seems to think whatever it is must be magic because she can’t find an explanation.”

Zatanna nodded and seemed to be thinking some things through. Her sharp nails drummed against her thigh in thought. “You only feel the pain where the scar is?”

Harry nodded. “It feels like it prickles sometimes, and other times it will get bad and feel like it burns.”

“Interesting.” Zatanna thought some more. “Is there a common stimulus that you’ve noticed?”

“Er, it usually happens when I’m close to Voldemort,” Harry answered tentatively, but Zatanna didn’t seem to be horrified by the name. She just thought for another second before clearly coming to some sort of conclusion. 

“Okay, I’m going to try something, but, just to warn you, I’m not sure this will work. It’s mostly done to dispel curses and other malevolent charms, but I’m not sure that’s what’s effecting you,” Zatanna warned, then, closed her eyes to prepare the spell. She placed her hands, one over the other, on Harry’s scar. Her eyes glowed in a strange way when she abruptly opened them. Harry closed his eyes tight as she said the spell. “Esnaelc s’yrraH luos morf sredavni!”

Harry opened his eyes tentatively after a few moments of silence. Zatanna still was standing over him and had her hands pressed tightly to his forehead, and the observers were still sitting around the kitchen with bated breath. 

Suddenly, Harry felt a tugging sensation on his scar. It was almost like someone was pulling his hair, despite there not being any hair there. It started with a slight tug that was more annoying than painful, then it escalated to a point where it seemed like Zatanna had grabbed a huge chunk of his hair and just yanked it with all her strength. 

When it reached a point where Harry was about to push Zatanna away from him, she fell down like a puppet whose strings were cut. Dick jumped to catch her before her head could hit the floor, and managed it just in time. The moment she fell, all the pain seemed to disappear from Harry’s head. 

Harry was just about to ask if it worked, when all of a sudden a strange vapor seemed to be coming out of Harry’s scar. Harry briefly went cross eyed trying to see it, but the vapor detached itself from Harry’s head and flowed slowly and haphazardly, like a snake that was taking its time, to the floor. It gathered itself on the floor, the long snake-like shape forming into a blob of the mist. Then a shape formed. It seemed like the imprint of a small child, horribly deformed in some ways, curled up on the floor. Harry was momentarily reminded of the ghosts at Hogwarts, until the creature let out a horrible shriek, loud and high and very clearly in pain. The vapor that made up the creature started to evaporate before their eyes, and within a few seconds the creature, whatever it had been, was gone without a trace. 

All the eyes in the room were focused on where the figure had just disappeared, save for Zatanna’s who was still unconscious. 

“Well,” Dick said lightly. “I hope everyone else just saw that too.”


	10. Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol you guys were all so surprised with the Horcrux! I bet a bunch of you thought this had no plot, but nope. I have plans… Also this chapter was supposed to be short. Idk what happened, but you’re welcome.

Harry blinked his eyes open, unsure of where he was for the moment and why he was there. 

“He’s awake,” Tim said from right next to where Harry was sitting. Harry looked over at the voice and found him sitting cross legged on the coffee table in front of the couch Harry was laid out on. He was in one of the more well used living rooms of the house. It was still an ornate room and rather excessively furnished if the TV larger than Harry was an indication, but the couches were soft and squishy and this was the room where most of the well-worn and well-loved movies and books were stored in the manor. Harry had already spent many nights curled up on this couch to watch some strange show with Tim or sitting on the coffee table to beat Dick in a video game or sprawled out on the floor doing his Summer work as whoever was home at the time would look on with interest. It was practically the heart of the home. 

The centerpiece of the room was a picture of a smiling man and woman with their hands on the shoulder of their young son. The family looked happy, and Harry always felt oddly sad at the loss of these people he had never met, but the room would be incomplete without them. They fit in nicely with the warm reds and dark wood of the cozy sitting room.

“What?” Harry mumbled as he sat up, confused at why he was confused. Bruce came over from the other side of the room where Zatanna was sitting on another couch and Dick was talking to her quietly.

“Do you remember what happened?” Bruce asked, and Harry had a vague recollection of a spell being recited and some weird mist coming out of his head, out of his scar. Harry suddenly reached up to his scar, it was still there, but it didn’t hurt. Not at all. “I take it that means you do. You fainted shortly after the spell. When Zatanna woke up, she told us that it was just your body compensating for the lost piece, and that you would be fine in a few hours.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“About three hours,” Tim answered promptly. “We were really worried, but Zatanna woke up about two hours ago and said you should be fine.”

“And, er, the thing?” Harry asked, gesturing to his forehead where he remembered the strange entity coming from.

“Zatanna thinks it died, for lack of a better word, when she detached it from you,” Bruce answered. “She’s done several spells since then and it appears to be gone for good.”

Harry shivered despite the warm temperature in the room. “But, what was it?”

“She thinks it was a soul,” Tim said in a hushed but excited voice.

“That’s just speculation,” Bruce cut in sharply at Harry’s started face, and elaborated. “Zatanna said it felt like another soul was inhabiting your body, rather than a curse of some type. When she attempted to cleanse your body, it was considered a foreign element and she attempted to pull it out. Since the soul, or whatever it was, was at odds with your body already, hence the pain, she just helped your subconscious magic get rid of it.”

Harry wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so he just nodded mutely. Another soul in his body? Whose soul could it have possibly been? And why wasn’t it in their body? Harry momentarily thought about dementors and how they stole souls. Maybe he got too close to one and it sort of put one in him? But that was ridiculous, dementors didn’t work like that.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts by Zatanna and Dick getting up and leaving the room. “Where are they going?”

“Whatever was in you, and I will be looking into it, was most likely here when Zatanna set her protection around the house originally,” Bruce explained, taking a seat next to Tim on the coffee table. “Since she isn’t sure what is, she wants to completely take down the protective spells and redo them.”

“Why does she need to do that?”

“Her spell makes magic users like vampires,” Tim piped up, which was less helpful than it seemed like the boy thought it would be. Harry turned to Bruce for a better explanation.

“A legend of vampires says they need to be invited into a house, or else they can’t enter,” Bruce clarified. He always made the most sense when it came down to things like this. “Zatanna’s spell makes it so magic and magic users have to get permission from someone, me specifically, before it can enter the house or the area around it. I do not invite people into my home lightly, so hopefully this will offer enough protection.”

“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred said sharply as he entered the room. “I understand that today has been a trying day, but, perhaps, we could not sit on the mahogany coffee table and instead enjoy the couches that are made for that specific purpose? I daresay they would be more comfortable.” 

The two stood from the coffee table immediately, and Harry laughed a bit and tried to disguise it by coughing. Tim saw right through it and shoved Harry’s feet off the end of the couch so he could join him on it.

“Well, Master Harry, it seems today has not been kind to you,” Alfred said after switching his attention from glaring at Bruce. He put a tea service tray on the end table near Harry rather than the coffee table the others had just vacated. “I made you some tea and I think you should rest here until dinner.” 

“Thank you, Alfred,” Harry said as he picked up a cup and took a sip. It was wonderful, as usual, and Alfred gave him a small smile. 

“You are very welcome. Master Bruce, I believe I heard Miss Zatanna say she would need your assistance in the spell near the end.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Bruce said, making his way out of the room. “I’ll go meet with them now. Harry don’t do anything strenuous.”

Harry bad a face at Bruce’s overbearing nature and Tim laughed. Alfred gave them a disappointed look. “You two, behave yourselves. I need to go start on dinner.”

Once Alfred was out of the room, Tim gave Harry a sly look. “How many episodes of Parks and Rec do you think we can get through before dinner?”

“At least three,” Harry predicted as Tim grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. 

They got through two and half, much to the boys’ annoyance, before they were called for dinner. But, no one argued when Alfred said dinner was ready, so they went to the dining room when ordered. Zatanna was at the table as well as Dick and Bruce. It was interesting to talk to her about her magic and how it was different from his. She seemed tired, which Harry thought made sense considering all the magic she had done today, but was happy to indulge Harry’s questions. 

Harry noticed them all watching him during dinner. He assumed it was because they were worried about what happened earlier, but they didn’t need to be. Harry felt great. It was almost like the scar wasn’t even there anymore, so Harry had to reach up to feel it it was still physically there a few times, which seemed to set off a set of worried questions from the others each time. It was nice.

Zatanna was in the middle of explaining the difference between a Magician and a Wizard, apparently a Magician was someone who had a specialized type of magic that was passed down genetically, when she stopped eating abruptly, dropping her fork loudly and startling everyone else. “Someone is trying to break through the wards!”

Everyone else dropped their utensils too. “Are they holding?” Bruce asked, hurrying to get up.

Zatanna closed her eyes tightly. “It feels like they are, but I’m not sure. It’s an unfamiliar kind of magic, more like yours Harry.”

“That makes sense, considering the threat should be coming from someone that knows Harry,” Bruce answered. Harry felt himself swallow. Why did he have to be such a target? Why couldn’t he just be happy here? “Can you tell how many there are and where they are?”

Zatanna’s eyes were still closed. “It’s just one person at the front gate. That’s a strange place to attack people from.”

“Alfred,” Bruce said, but the man was already at his elbow with a tablet in his hand. 

“Right here, Sir,” Alfred answered before being asked as Bruce took the tablet. “I believe the front gate is camera thirty-seven.”

 

Bruce nodded and tapped the tablet a few times. Grimacing at whatever he saw, he held the tablet so Harry could see it. “Do you recognize this man?”

There was a man there, clearly dressed in wizard’s robes of a deep scarlet. He held his wand aloft and, while there was nothing visible coming from it, the man was unmistakably muttering spells to himself despite the video not having any sound. His long white hair and beard were unmistakable. “That’s professor Dumbledore,” Harry exclaimed. “My headmaster!” 

“So, a friend of yours then?” Bruce asked, just as Zatanna began chanting under her breath too low for Harry to hear. Harry wondered why Dumbledore would be here. Was he going to make them go back to the Dursleys? “I guess we should go greet him them.”

“Sooner, rather than later, would be great,” Zatanna panted out in between spells, and sweat was already pooling on her brow. She really had done an awful lot of magic today, and Harry hoped that she would be okay until they could sort this all out with Dumbledore.

Bruce nodded. “Let’s go.”

Alfred took the tablet from Bruce, but remained inside with Tim, much to the boy’s displeasure. Bruce led the way out of the house and down the long driveway with Harry next to him. Zatanna and Dick were trailing behind since the Magician was fighting to keep her wards in place and Dick had his arms around her for support. 

They made their way down mostly in silence, but Harry hesitantly broke it when they were a little ways down the driveway. “I don’t think Dumbledore knew where I was,” Harry admitted. “He might be worried you kidnapped me.”

Bruce hummed in answer, but didn’t offer any comment. He was wearing what Harry had learned was his thinking face, in which Bruce looked more disinterested and thoughtful than normal and rarely answered questions when asked. Tim had told Harry that it was best to probably not interrupt him when he was like that, so Harry decided to stay quiet. 

They reached the gate in good time, only having to stop at one point so Zatanna could climb onto Dick’s back when she kept losing focus on walking. When they turned the last bend in the driveway, Harry saw a purple light streak across the sky, which had the added benefit of lighting up the Professor.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry greeted loudly, as another purple crack made Zatanna start chanting louder. Thankfully, at Harry’s words, the Wizard stopped hurling spells at Zatanna’s spells and instead turned to face Harry.

“Ah, Harry,” Dumbledore greeted warmly. “I trust you are doing well?” He moved on without waiting for an answer. “What form does your Patronus charm take, my boy?”

“Er, a stag, Sir,” Harry answered, a bit confused about the strange question. They were just on the other side of the gate now and Harry stopped a few feet away from it. Bruce’s hands found Harry’s shoulders, and Harry took a moment to soak in the fact that Dumbledore was on the other side of the gate and Harry was on this side with Bruce who had the power to let Dumbledore in or not. 

“I assume,” Bruce told Harry in a low voice, and Harry was still focused on Dumbledore who seemed to be intently staring at Harry’s shoulders. “That the question was to check if you really are Harry Potter, so you should ask him a question, which only he knows the answer, to check if that is really your headmaster.”

Harry racked his brain for a question. It couldn’t be too obvious, since that would defeat the point of the question, but Harry had to think of some personal information that he knew about Dumbledore. Looking back, Harry couldn’t think of anything he knew about the headmaster that wasn’t common knowledge, except-

“What did you tell me you saw in the Mirror of Erised?” 

Dumbledore smiled, and Harry felt vaguely proud of himself for coming up with a good question, then rather annoyed at Dumbledore for not sharing more with him. Surely Harry deserved that much?

“A nice pair of socks,” Dumbledore answered, and Harry told Bruce this was the correct answer. 

“Do you want me to let him in?” Bruce asked, and Harry was so surprised that this decision was in his hands he couldn’t answer right away. 

“Er, should I?” Harry asked. He didn’t want to let Dumbledore in. He was angry and not ready to forgive, but it seemed rude to not tell the man anything. Plus, Harry wasn’t sure Zatanna could handle it if they refused. 

“I think that if you want to talk to him and trust him, that it would be better to have this conversation in the house, and away from any prying eyes or ears,” Bruce answered logically. “But, if you do not want him there, I will respect that decision and we can talk out here.” Bruce paused. “I won’t let him take you anywhere that you don’t want to go.”

Harry thought about it for a moment and decided that as long as he could stay at this house with this family, he could talk to Dumbledore for a bit.

“You can let him in.” Bruce nodded, and squeezed his shoulders before going to the side of the road where there was a smaller gate made for a person rather than a whole car. 

“We haven’t met,” Bruce greeted through the gate. “But Harry is staying with me for the Summer and I do believe you just tried to break into my home.”

“I do apologize for that,” Dumbledore answered, moving closer to the smaller gate as well. “I was afraid something unfortunate had happened to Harry, Mr.-”

“Wayne,” Bruce answered. “Bruce Wayne.”

The two continued to talk, but Harry was momentarily distracted by Dick and Zatanna. Now that her spell wasn’t being attacked, she was demanding to be put down, which Dick complied with, but she was still a bit unsteady on her feet, so Harry reached out the help in case she fell.

“I’m fine,” Zatanna promised, shooing their hands away. “I just need to lay down for a bit once we get back to the house.”

Dick looked over at the other men who were introducing themselves a bit more. “I think they’re good if you want to head back up the the house, Zee.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Zatanna agreed, and the two started to make their way slowly back up the driveway. Zatanna was still a bit unsteady on her feet, but didn’t look like she was going to fall again. Harry focused back on the gate where Bruce was reciting what must have been the permission to let Dumbledore in.

“I, Bruce Thomas Wayne, allow Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore through these gates and into my home.” As he said the words he unlocked the gate in front of him using a key that Harry hadn’t seen him pull out. Harry expected a flash of light or a sound, but Dumbledore just walked through the gate as normally as if he was an invited guest. 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Wayne,” Dumbledore said and held out a hand to shake now that they were on the same side of the gate. Bruce didn’t seem to see it right away since he went to lock the gate behind the other man, but did notice it when he turned back to Dumbledore. 

Harry made his way over to them. “Dick and Zatanna went back to the house,” Harry told Bruce, who nodded, then he turned to Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked older than usual and much more tired, but he still had an open smile and twinkling eyes behind his spectacles. “Hello, Professor.” 

“Hello, Harry, you look well.”

“I feel well,” Harry answered, unsure of what to say. “How did you find me? I thought the protection spells stopped tracking?” He directed his last question at Bruce, but Dumbledore answered. 

“It was the most curious thing,” Dumbledore acknowledged. “I had been attempting to track you down for a few days now, but when I tried earlier, the spell worked for the first time, so I followed it immediately, in case you needed help.”

“He’s fine, as you can see,” Bruce answered Dumbledore, then turned to Harry. “And, I believe the Headmaster attempted to track you during the brief period the spells were being renewed and simply was lucky he tried at the right time.”

Harry nodded because that made sense. It was reassuring to know Zatanna’s anti tracking spells were working well when they were up though. And, clearly the spells protecting the house worked if they were holding back a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore. 

“Why don’t we take this up to the house,” Bruce suggested when no one else spoke, then he led the way back without waiting for a reply. Harry fell in behind him and Dumbledore walked next to Harry.

“I am curious how you ended up here of all places,” Dumbledore asked, and Harry decided he enjoyed knowing things Dumbledore didn’t as he told him the story.

Harry explained to Dumbledore vaguely about Dick being his cousin and being at the Dursleys, and then deciding to go with Dick and Bruce for the Summer. Dumbledore didn’t offer any comment, which Harry wasn’t sure was a good sign, but he didn’t care too much one way or the other. The three fell into an awkward silence as they came up to the house, and Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to break it because it looked like both Dumbledore and Bruce had thinking faces on and didn’t want to be disturbed.

When they got closer to the house, they caught up to Dick and Zatanna, and Alfred opened the door as the silent group was approaching the house. “I’ve prepared some tea in the kitchen, Master Bruce, for our guest. Master Dick, I believe Miss Zatanna could use a bit of a lie down, so I have made up a guest bedroom for her.”

Dick nodded, and helped Zatanna up the grand staircase, with a promise that he would be back down in a minute. Harry, with Dumbledore beside him taking in the ambiance of the house with much more decorum than Harry had, followed Alfred and Bruce to the kitchen. 

They went a longer way to the kitchen than necessary, and Harry had a feeling it was to show off more of the house but decided not to comment. Tim was already sitting at the table with a cookie in his mouth, so Harry sat down next to him. Dumbledore sat down on Harry’s other side, and Bruce sat down across from him. 

Harry could already feel the tension in the air and the conversation hadn’t even started yet. 

“So, you teach magic,” Tim asked around Harry as he chewed his cookie. Bruce sent him a look, but Tim resolutely ignored it as he looked at the WIzard.

“I’m afraid I don’t teach much anymore,” Dumbledore answered. “I find I don’t have time as the headmaster, but I was a teacher quite a few years ago. Do you live here to?”

“That’s too bad,” Tim answered as he daintily wiped his face with a napkin to get rid of all the crumbs. He offered his hand to Dumbledore and Harry stared down at their handshake rather than look at Bruce who did not seem to be pleased by this development. “And yes, I do live here. I’m Tim Drake.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Drake. I am Albus Dumbledore,” Dumbledore answered as he shook the boy’s hand. When he removed it, he sipped his tea and directed a comment at Alfred. “This tea is simply divine Mr.-”

“Pennyworth,” Alfred answered shortly as he wiped down the already spotless countertop, and the man didn’t offer any more information, so Dumbledore refocused on Harry. He was prevented from speaking by Dick entering the kitchen in a flurry of limbs and taking the seat next to Bruce.

“Zatanna’s taking a quick nap,” he told them, then offered a hand to Dumbledore, and Harry saw that this didn’t seem to make Bruce happy either. “You must be Albus Dumbledore. I’m Dick Grayson, Harry’s cousin.”

Dumbledore shook it. “Yes, Harry mentioned. But, not a direct cousin?”

“We share an aunt, uncle, and cousin,” Harry blurted out, not wanting Dumbledore to downplay this new relation. This family was one of the best things to happen to Harry in a long time. 

Dick nodded. “Well, Harry’s been living here these past few weeks, so he’s basically part of the family now.” 

“Is he?” Dumbledore asked, and Harry didn’t think he was as excited as Harry, who sort of wished he could hug Dick right now for saying that. He took a sip of his tea instead. 

“Of course,” Tim answered as he put his teacup down on his saucer rather violently, while Bruce nodded his agreement. 

“How has it been living here, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, changing the subject, for which Harry was grateful.

“It’s been really great,” Harry answered honestly, and was about to tell Dumbledore about everything in this wonderful house, when he remembered that he was angry about all the secrets and lies and how Dumbledore never told him anything. Harry took a bite of a cookie instead. 

“Nothing strange or out of the ordinary?” Dumbledore asked, and Dick’s cup clinked heavily against the saucer this time as Tim sucked in a quick breath. 

“Er, there was a soul in my head?” Harry offered up tentatively, wondering if maybe he was being a bit harsh and Dumbledore’s eyebrow rose. 

“In your head?” Dumbledore asked, clearly startled. “What on earth do you mean?”

“Zatanna cast a spell on Harry to get rid of curses and a weird thing came out of his scar,” Tim explained vaguely, looking at Dumbledore intently around Harry. “Zatanna said it felt like a soul.”

“I take it Zatanna is the tired young lady whom I saw earlier?” Dumbledore questioned.

“Yes,” Bruce answered sharply, then abruptly changed the subject. “Boys, I think I would like to speak to the Headmaster alone now.” 

\---------------------------------------

“I would like to know why you weren’t surprised that another soul, not belonging to the boy, was found in Harry,” Bruce started bluntly once all of his kids had left and Alfred had shut the door behind them all. Despite the boy’s protests and groans at being thrown out, Bruce trusted that Alfred would manage to keep them all out of hearing range.

Dumbledore’s look of amusement faded at Bruce’s words. The expression gave way to something much graver and made him look even older, no small feat. Bruce felt the familiar feeling of something invading his mind, but he had practice with mind reading and knew how to clear his mind in just the right way to stop the invasion. And Clark joked that Bruce was paranoid, clearly Bruce was just prepared for all the right possibilities. 

“Fascinating,” Dumbledore said to himself, and his blue eyes were sharp as they surveyed Bruce over the half moon spectacles. “You are a very interesting person, Mr. Wayne.”

“Bruce, please,” Bruce said, inclining his head slightly, and wondering absentmindedly if perhaps he should have told Dick to stay, just in case. While Bruce was prepared for many possibilities, it was abundantly clear to him that Dumbledore also shared this trait and that his sparkling eyes held a deadly intellect. Well, Bruce was never one for backing down from a challenge. 

“Then you must call me Albus,” Dumbledore answered amicably as he offered a candy from inside his robes. “Lemon drop?”

“No, thank you.”

“I am curious, Bruce,” Dumbledore pressed as he unwrapped a sweet for himself. “On how exactly the soul, as you call it, was removed from Harry.”

“Well, Albus,” Bruce answered crossing one leg over the other and leaning back comfortably in his chair. “I have no magic myself. I’m a No-Maj, a Muggle as you would say. However, I know quite a few magic users. Naturally, I employed a bright young Magician to ward my house, seeing as how Harry believed himself, and therefore the rest of my family, to be in danger. So, when Harry started to complain about a pain in his scar and disturbing dreams, I asked this woman to take a look after my family doctor couldn’t distinguish a physical reason for the injury to be acting up.”

“A Magician?” Dumbledore questioned sharply. “Not a Witch?”

“Not a Witch,” Bruce agreed. “Her magic is a bit different than yours, from what I understand. She asked a few questions and seemed to think it was a curse on the boy. She cast a spell to cleanse him and then a strange entity detached itself from the boy. Afterwards she told us it felt like a soul, but not part of Harry’s, but to me it seemed like a wisp of vapor, then it molded itself into a strange and deformed humanoid shape curled up on the floor. The vapor figure then seemed to evaporate before our eyes.”

“Because it was no longer attached to its host?” Dumbledore asked. He was leaning forward and listening intently, and Bruce thought that he liked the man better when he wasn’t pretending to be less intelligent than he clearly was. 

Bruce shrugged. “That seemed to be her theory as well. She cast several other spells to make sure the entity was gone, and it appeared to be.”

“Fascinating.” Dumbledore said again, as he leaned back to process the story.

“I’m going to be blunt, Albus,” Bruce said after a moment. “I see you are an intelligent man who can most likely appreciate that in a person. I want Harry to be safe. I don’t think we agree on this point.”

Dumbledore sighed and took off his half moon spectacles, setting them on the table in between them. “You must understand that I care about that boy very much,” Dumbledore started, but was interrupted by Bruce.

“I’m sure you do. However, I have been wondering who put Harry with his relatives rather than someone who would actually give him the love and support he would need.”

“A mistake,” Dumbledore admitted. “People seem to think I am incapable of them. However, I believe that this is a topic for another day, we were discussing what you would like for the boy?”

“I would like to be made Harry’s legal guardian,” Bruce answered with a smile that showed nothing but white glimmering teeth. “After that, I am willing to help out in this effort to protect Harry and stop your Dark Lord in whatever way I can, including bringing my formidable resources to the table.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Dumbledore surveyed Bruce. Although, there was no touch of mind reading against Bruce’s mind like he expected, which was strange. “You would fight a war, Bruce? For a boy you barely know?”

“I’ve been a parent for about ten years now,” Bruce answered. “I’ve learned that the fighting their outside battles for them is generally the easiest part.”

“That is an interesting parenting perspective, Bruce.”

“Well, after you’ve taken in four children, you can tell me if it’s wrong,” Bruce said seriously, and Dumbledore considered him for a moment. 

“Have you ever come across the word Horcrux?” Dumbledore changed the topic suddenly

“Horcrux,” Bruce said the word like he was tasting it. He didn’t like what he found. It rolled off his tongue wrong. “I am unfamiliar with this term.”

“Essentially, it is when a wizard rips a piece of their soul from themselves and places it in a vessel in order to make themselves immortal. This process involves purposely murdering another person.” 

“Harry was one of these vessels then? For whom?” Bruce questioned, suddenly very interested in where this topic was going. It seemed like Dumbledore had decided to trust him. 

“I think Harry was an accident of Voldemort’s on the night his parents died,” Dumbledore admitted, and smiled slightly at the quirk in Bruce’s eyebrow. “I believe that Tom made six more before he came across Harry that Halloween night, making his soul unstable in just the right way to have a bit of an accident.”

“Tom?”

“Yes, Voldemort’s given name. Tom Riddle. I knew him when he was a boy, and I find the name rolls of the tongue a bit easier.” Bruce heard the regret in the older man’s voice and tried to not think about how this man damned a one year old child to live with people who hated everything about him. He tried not to think of the horrors one had to subject a child to for him to become a mass murderer.

“Another mistake?” Bruce asked with a polite smile and Dumbledore inclined his head slightly, the slight downturn of lips the only thing showing his displeasure. 

“Yes, I am afraid Tom would be considered that.” The silence was filled with electricity, and Bruce took a moment to deliberate if he should pursue this topic or get back to the one at hand.

“You believe there are six others? Why?” Bruce asked finally. Dumbledore clearly had his secrets, and this was not the time to get to the bottom of all of them. 

“Seven is the most magical number. I believe he would have found it attractive to have his soul split into seven pieces. Perhaps, he also believed it would make each piece stronger.” 

“So, you believe that Harry is an accidental eighth piece of Voldemort’s soul? That there are six more of these soul pieces attached to different people?”

“Harry was the only person carrying a horcrux,” Dumbledore said resolutely. “Tom did not trust anyone enough to give his soul to, I believe the rest are inanimate objects, with the exception of his pet snake.” 

“That is still five more pieces missing,” Bruce acknowledged.

“Four actually,” Dumbledore corrected. “Young Harry has already destroyed one of them. His second year if I remember correctly.”

Bruce thought about it for a moment, thinking back on the stories he had heard from Harry and looking for something out of place in the narrative. “The diary?” he questioned after a moment of deliberation. Harry had been rather vague about the boy haunting the chamber.

Dumbledore smiled. “Yes, the diary. Tom’s first Horcrux I believe.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Bruce asked, and he was surprised when Dumbledore did just that. 

It was a long tale. It involved a lonely orphan, as most of Bruce’s stories do, who was too smart and not kind enough for the world. The poor boy became greedy and was intelligent enough to get what he wanted and stupid enough to believe he was invincible. Dumbledore admitted to not knowing about all of the Horcruxes, but he had a few ideas and leads to follow. Bruce decided that this man, while intelligent, clearly needed a few extra hands to help out in this detective work. Bruce knew quite a few excellent detectives and acknowledged, out loud, that it must be hard to run a school and take down mass murderers in your spare time. 

Dumbledore pointed out that it would be challenging to run a company and chase down a few pieces of soul, so Bruce told him that children were wonderful to use to delegate and they both shared a laugh at the joke that clearly neither of them found funny. 

On that cheerful note, they then moved on to talk about Harry specifically. 

“The boy needs more protection than you can offer him here,” Dumbledore insisted softly. The man clearly knew that Harry had not been treated right, and this revelation did not endear him to Bruce, especially as he tried to convince Bruce to send Harry back. “He must go back to his relatives. Blood relatives are the only ones who can keep his mother’s protection active.”

“My house seems perfectly protected,” Bruce answered with a sweeping motion around to indicate. “You said you could not locate Harry until we took down the spells manually, and my Magician would have been able to hold you off longer if she was not already exhausted from the day's events. I am even willing to allow you to add extra protection to the house if you can explain why it is necessary.”

“The protection that his aunt and cousin provide him would be better.”

“I would like to make one thing very clear, Albus,” Bruce said slowly, anger simmering under his skin at the injustice done to this child, but Bruce’s anger had always been cold and sharp. “While Harry’s safety is my number one priority, he will not be returning to that house. He will be staying with me and my family. I do not think I asked for your opinion on this.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at Bruce, but Bruce had played this game with criminals and super humans, and more terrifying people life Alfred, and knew how to get his way. Bruce once again felt that familiar brush of a mind trying to break into his own, and he blocked it with a solid wall made up of his utter disgust for the older man. 

“And, what if I disagree, Bruce?” Dumbledore asked with a tone closer to asking about the weather rather than the fate of a child. 

Bruce shrugged indifferently. “I don’t care much for your opinion, Albus.” 

Dumbledore considered Bruce again, but did not attempt to invade his mind for a third time. 

“I have a rotation of guards set up for Harry over the Summer,” Dumbledore started unexpectedly, and Bruce did not let the surprise at the trust show. “Needless to say, they found it rather suspicious when Harry didn’t come out of his house for a week, and that is how I knew Harry was no longer in Privet drive.”

“Are you saying that you think people will continue to believe Harry is at his relative's house?” Dumbledore nodded at the question. 

“If what you said about wanting the boy’s guardianship is true,” Dumbledore continued. “Then of course the magical government will be aware, in legal documents, but his residence has always been a close guarded secret of the Wizarding World. I would have to do a bit of research about the process before I can transfer the guardianship.”

Bruce nodded, now very pleased with where this conversation was going. “Yes, that all sounds acceptable.”

“‘I would prefer,” Dumbledore started tentatively, and Bruce was immediately on edge. “That the guard rotation continues for Harry’s sake, as well as your family’s.”

Bruce was already shaking his head before Dumbledore had finished. “Absolutely not. I will not allow strangers to walk in or around my house and drawing attention to the fact the boy is here.”

“They would be hidden,” Dumbledore promised. “I have amassed a number of invisibility cloaks for this task, and I am sure you will not even notice them.”

Bruce took a moment to decide if it was worth pointing out the strangeness of invisibly spying on a fourteen year old without the boy’s knowledge and how many ways that could go wrong, before coming to the conclusion that he did not have time for that.

“I said no,” Bruce answered firmly, and he saw how Dumbledore’s lips thinned at this refusal. “However, if you have a magical means to contact you quickly, and I way in which to arrive here if we need help, I would be willing to have that in my house in case of emergency.”

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. “I will look into it and get back to you. For now I would like to meet this young Magician I have heard so much about and talk to her about wards.”

Both men rose from the table simultaneously, and Bruce held out his right hand to shake. Dumbledore took the offered hand, and his grip was exactly as firm as Bruce thought it would be. Bruce decided that today had been a rather productive day, all things considered.


	11. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not dead

After the weird issue with his head and the maybe-soul, as well as Dumbledore coming to visit, the manor quieted down a bit. Dumbledore had wanted to speak to Zatanna alone for a bit, and Harry was a bit annoyed that he wasn’t part of that conversation. After that, Dumbledore had asked to speak to Harry alone, but, at Harry’s panicked look, Alfred, whom no one could ever seem to refuse, decided that was enough for the day and politely showed Dumbledore to to door. Harry wasn’t too broken up about it. 

Bruce walked Dumbledore back down to the front gate to see him off, and Harry found himself a bit glad he didn’t have to go to. Instead he helped Alfred clean up from the forgotten dinner they were eating when Dumbledore arrived. Alfred was great to be with because silence never felt awkward or uncomfortable with him, and he had an uncanny ability to know when people wanted to talk and when people needed some time to think. Harry still needed some time to process the whole ‘soul in his head’ thing. 

Once Bruce came back from seeing the older Wizard off, Bruce led Harry to his office with a firm hand on his shoulder, while the other residents of the manor made themselves scarce. Harry had been in the office a few times before. Like many of the older and more well used rooms in the manor, it had a large and beautiful portrait of the late Waynes as a centerpiece, which was always as comforting as it was slightly unsettling. The room had a large fireplace under the portrait, but it was perfectly clean and untouched in the warm summer heat. Rather than sitting behind the large wooden desk, Bruce led Harry to the other side of the spacious office, which consisted of a few couches and more bookshelves than Harry thought necessary in a private home. Hermione would love it. 

Harry sat on the nearest couch as Bruce took the arm chair right next to it. What was happening? Harry wondered. Perhaps Bruce hadn’t been able to convince Dumbledore to allow Harry to stay here? Maybe he had to go back to the Dursleys?

“Harry,” Bruce’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. “You’re headmaster is a very interesting man.”

Harry nodded, and tried not to look too much like he was going to hyperventilate. Or vomit. The floor in here was probably worth more than Harry would ever see in his life. Most of the manor was like that. 

“He is currently working on getting your guardianship transferred over to me,” Bruce went on without any prompting. The surprise hit Harry like a punch in the chest. Bruce did that? For him, Harry? Bruce stood up against Dumbledore for him?

“Of course, I realize you and I haven’t discussed this, Harry,” Bruce continued, and Harry took a deep breath to settle his racing heart. Some one wanted him! “You are more than welcome to stay here for as long as you like. Indefinitely, even. But, I also want you to know that if there is somewhere else you want to be-”

“No!” Harry said a bit too loudly, sounding uncomfortably loud in the large office. Realizing that interrupting was probably rude in such a moment, Harry tried again. “Sorry, but, er, I don’t really want to go anywhere else. If that’s okay?”

Bruce smiled warmly, in the way he only ever did in the manor when Dick told a horrendous pun they all pretended not to laugh at, or when Tim told them all about his latest interest he was researching to death, or when Alfred let loose a particularly biting insult. It was a nice smile.

“As I said, Harry, we would be more than happy if you stayed.” Harry nodded, and his cheeks hurt a bit with the force of the smile, but it was worth it. 

“I’ll let you know once all the paperwork gets sorted. You’ve had a long day, so why don’t you head to bed?”

Harry nodded and headed up to bed, not passing any of the other residents on the way. It was good because the almost painful smile wasn’t going away, and Harry wasn’t sure if he could explain it to anyone else. 

After pulling on his pajamas and brushing his teeth, Harry laid in bed and thought it was going to be hard to sleep after a day like that. A lot had happened, some of it terrifying, and some of it amazingly and wonderfully good. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

\-------------------------------

“If that boy is going to live here you need to tell him,” Alfred told Bruce.

“He’ll figure it out,” Bruce answered, pulling the cowl over his head. “They always figure it out.” 

“He might, sir,” Alfred agreed, wiping down the already spotless computer monitor. “But, how long will it take? And how will he feel about being kept in the dark?”

“I’m keeping him away from the darkness,” Batman answered, and Alfred’s head hurt a bit with the force of his eyeroll.

“Be that as it may, sooner rather than later may be the better choice in this case.”

The squeal of tires was his only answer.

“Ah, yes, I do love our little chats, sir,” Alfred said the the back of the car before it turned the corner.

Tim came out of the changing room dressed in the signature red, green, and black. The white eye holes in the mask widened when he noticed the car missing. “Um, I think Bruce forgot me.”

\-------------------------------

Harry stumbled down to the kitchen for some breakfast a few days later to see Tim already eating. The sight wasn’t unusual in itself, but the fact that Tim’s arm was in a sling was. Harry had seen Tim just yesterday, and he was fine then.

“What happened?” Harry asked as he pulled out the chair next to Tim. 

“Uh,” Tim looked momentarily terrified and looked to Alfred, but Alfred was busy putting more pancakes on the griddle and whistling quietly. “I, uh.” Tim looked down at his arm again, as if it had the answer. It didn’t seem to from how long it took to answer. “I fell off my bed.”

“You fell off your bed?” Harry asked, startled, and even Alfred stopped whistling at that.

“Yeah,” Tim answered, sounding a bit more confident. “It was really embarrassing, so I didn’t want to wake you, but I’ll be okay soon.”

Harry decided not to ask and dug into the pancakes that Alfred put in front of him with a quick ‘thank you!’ Alfred smiled thinly, and then put a plate of pre-cut pancakes in front of Tim so he could easily eat them with one hand. 

“Does it hurt a lot?” Harry asked through a mouthful. Alfred chided his manners as he put some orange juice in front of Harry. 

 

“Not too much,” Tim answered after he swallowed some pancakes. “I’m taking some medication and it was a clean break so I should be okay soon.”

Suddenly Bruce entered the kitchen in a whirlwind. He was holding his briefcase haphazardly and attempting to use that hand and his empty one to tie his tie. Harry and Tim both greeted him through their pancakes. Once the man’s tie was tied, and it somehow looked impeccable, Bruce stole a few pancakes right out of pan with his empty hand and didn’t managed to dodge Alfred’s spatula aiming for his. 

“Ouch Alfred, I’m late to a board meeting,” Bruce explained, as he put his suitcase down for a moment and drained Tim’s orange juice, despite the boy’s protests. “Oh, sorry Tim. Be careful about that arm, don’t do anything strenuous today.”

“Yes, Bruce,” Tim answered, forlornly looking into his empty cup. 

“I mean it, Tim,” Bruce said through a mouthful of pancake. “Don’t you dare get on that death trap you call a skateboard. And definitely no working out for a few days.” There was a weird emphasis on the word ‘working out,’ but Harry didn’t think too much of it when Bruce turned to address him. “Harry, you watch him and make sure he doesn’t do anything with that arm.”

“Sure, Bruce,” Harry answered, and Tim rolled his eyes dramatically. “Where’s Dick?” 

Everyone in the room paused for a moment. But, then Alfred continued whistling louder than before, Tim shoved a big bite of pancakes into his mouth, and Bruce picked up his briefcase again. 

“Dick got called into work late last night. There was some kind of emergency,” Bruce explained as he headed out the door. “He should be back later today, tomorrow maybe. I’ll see you all later.”

With Bruce gone, the kitchen was notably calmer, with only the clinking of cutlery and the sizzling of pancakes being made to fill the room. 

“Despite the niceness of the day,” Alfred started as the boys brought their empty plates to the sink. “Perhaps it would be best to stay inside, lest you get the urge to do anything strenuous, Master Tim?”

Tim looked over at Harry with a grin. “Sure, Alfred, inside is super safe. I haven’t climbed the chandelier in a little while.”

That was an odd threat to make, and made even weirder when Alfred took it somewhat seriously. Alfred waved a soapy spatula over at him. “That poor chandelier does not deserve that. Heavens knows it has suffered enough.”

Tim laughed and pulled Harry out of the room. “The Chandelier?” Harry asked, thoroughly confused. Maybe it was some sort of code.

“Dick’s an arealist right?” Tim explained. “So, when he first came to the manor, he liked to swing on the chandelier a lot. He’s too big for it now, but I know Jason did it at one point, but Alfred always stops me before I can.”

“This family is so weird,” Harry blurted out, and regretted it coming off as rude considering he was currently shoving himself into it. 

But Tim just laughed. “Of course it is, now lets see how much TV we can watch before Alfred finds us something to do.”

\----------------------

They had only been watching TV for an hour when Alfred decided he wanted to go shopping and needed the two of them to help out. Harry didn’t think that Alfred ever actually needed help with anything, but Tim seemed excited about free samples, so they all got into a car and headed out.

It wasn’t too bad. Alfred seemed to have a mental list in his head, but didn’t mind indulging a few extra things. He put his foot down at the giant bucket of cheese balls Tim tried to sneak into the cart. 

“But, I need it,” Tim insisted. “Alfred, my arm hurts, this will make it better.”

Alfred continued to look at him, and Tim put the cheese balls back. Harry was thankful because they honestly looked disgusting and he wasn’t sure why anyone would want to put that in their body. 

“I need to go to the dry cleaners,” Alfred told them as they checked out. “But, I can drop you two off at the comic book store if you would like.”

Harry and Tim both nodded eagerly. They hadn’t been leaving the house very much recently, so any excuse to get out had been good, but doing something fun had been even better. 

Harry was unfamiliar with Muggle comics. He knew a few of the big name ones, since Dudley occasionally had them, but he had never really read any of them. Thankfully Tim seemed to know a lot about the topic and promised to lend some of his older ones, and told him he could borrow some of Dick’s too. They spent far too long in the store that Alfred eventually had to come in and remind them that they should eat lunch. But there was something really great about a story where the good guys always won, the bad guys always lost, and the lines on who was who were easily defined. 

\-------------------------------------

The next few days Bruce was noticeably absent from the house. He missed meals occasionally before, but Harry hadn’t seen any trace of the man at all. Alfred assured him that Wayne Industries was taking up a lot of time, and Harry had no idea what exactly Bruce did for the company, but still it was kind of weird.

Dick disappeared at odd times as well, although he at least showed up occasionally, more than Bruce did at least. Tim occasionally disappeared as well, but never for too long at a time, so Harry never really thought too much about it. He didn’t want to hang out with people all the time either, so it made sense not to see everyone all the time. 

What was weird was a few days later Harry had been sitting outside in the grass, reading one of Dick’s old comic books about a guy who was bitten by a radioactive spider, Bruce came up to him. 

It was barely ten in the morning, and Harry hadn’t seen Bruce at all in the last few days, and no one seemed to know when he’d be home. He wasn’t dressed for work, so maybe he was done with the crazy work schedule for now.

“Harry,” Bruce greeted shortly. It wasn’t a friendly tone, per se, but it also didn’t sound mean to any extent. It was very empty.

“Am I in trouble?” Harry asked automatically, then winced at the childishness of that statement. 

Bruce’s lips curled up a little bit. “Did you do something that you should be in trouble for?”

Harry tried to think back. “I don’t think so.”

“Then it seems you already know the answer to the question,” Bruce answered, and offered his hand down to Harry. He took it, and was easily pulled to his feet. “You should come with me. I need to tell you something.”

The walk back into the house was silent, and Harry left the comic on an end table when they passed through the living room. Maybe he’d learn what Bruce was doing at the company, or Bruce would tell him why Dick was so busy recently. A small voice in the back of Harry’s head said that maybe Bruce was going to get rid of him, but Harry tried to push that back. 

They made their way into Bruce’s office, and Harry made to speak, but Bruce beat him to it. 

“Not there yet, Harry,” he said as he moved toward the large grandfather clock in the room. It didn’t appear to be working, but Harry still wasn’t sure that Bruce should move the clock hands like that. The clock might break. But, once Bruce had finished moving first the hour, than the minute hand, the whole clock swung open, like it was a door of some kind, and there was a small room beyond it. As someone who had seen moving staircases, trick doors, and too many secret passageways, Harry moved into the room without really thinking about it when Bruce motioned him in. 

It became very clear that the room they entered was not a room at all, but an elevator. The door, or the clock, closed behind them, and Harry felt the jarring motion as they went down quickly. The elevator doors opened soundlessly, and Harry’s eyes took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness down here. 

The room they entered when the little elevator opened was huge. Harry knew the house was large, but this was definitely bigger than the house footprint. The elevator had clearly taken them down several floors since there were several stories between them and the stalactites far above them. The space fit many odd looking vehicles that were sleek and dark and unlike the ones upstairs because Harry could not define their exact use. They clearly weren’t normal cars There were other strange things scattered around, like a weird art gallery that for some reason featured a giant penny and a huge dinosaur among other things.

Harry turned to look at Bruce, who looked more like a statue than a man at this point. “This isn’t a normal basement, is it?” Harry asked, tentatively, and Bruce quirked a small smile.

“Not exactly.”

Harry caught sight of what was on Bruce’s other side. What looked like a giant TV and a computer put together which was almost ridiculous in size alone. Next to it, there was a case that held a superhero suit with a very familiar symbol on it. 

It suddenly all clicked when he saw the bat symbol. He looked from Bruce to the suit a few times, and then pinched himself in the leg just to make sure. 

“Oh,” Harry said, and wasn’t sure what else to say from there, but felt like he should. “You’re Batman.”


	12. The Second Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck canon :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I also posted part of Dick’s POV at the Dursleys. It’s the third part of this series. Enjoy :)

Harry was sitting in the chair in front of a computer that was bigger than some of the TVs upstairs. Which was saying something because the TVs in the manor were already ridiculous. He was sitting in a cave with a million other high tech appliances talking to Bruce, who it turned out was also Batman. What even was his life sometimes?

Bruce had led him to the chair without saying anything and Harry had all but collapsed into it. This was a lot. 

“There’s more I need to tell you,” Bruce said after a moment, and Harry wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was apparently living with a superhero. His ‘normal’ family apparently had a parental figure that wore a cape and punched criminals in the face. But, on the other hand, Harry also had a scar that apparently used to have another soul in it. He had a godfather who could turn into a dog whenever he wanted, and he went to a school that taught him magic. He could handle this.

“However, I need to get Tim first, he deserves to know,” Bruce continued, ignoring Harry’s minor freak out. 

 

As he processed Tim’s name, Harry’s head shot up. “Wait, does Tim know about all this?”

Bruce stared, and he looked almost surprised. Which was ridiculous because Harry should be the surprised one. Bruce’s eyes trailed passed the bat suit and Harry followed them until his eyes landed on the Robin costume. The costume was smaller than Harry thought it would be. Clearly made for a child, and not something Harry would be able to fit in. It took a second to click.

“Tim’s Robin?!”

Bruce nodded again. It made sense. They all disappeared at strange times and occasionally had weird injuries. Dick and Bruce also were really strong in ways that probably weren’t completely normal.

“So, Dick’s Nightwing?” Harry asked and wasn’t too surprised at Bruce’s nod.

“And, you’re Batman,” Harry repeated. Just to make sure.

“Bruce!” Tim’s voice came from the elevator that Harry and Bruce had just come through. “Alfred told me you had to tell me something.” Tim stopped short when he caught sight of Harry. “Harry figured it out? This is great!”

“Yeah, great,” Harry mimicked, but couldn’t seem to muster up the enthusiasm that Tim had.

“We’re still the same people,” Tim said anxiously wringing his hands. “I’m still Tim and Bruce is still Bruce”

And when Tim put it that way, it seemed remarkably simple. Sure this family seemed to have a weird extra hobby, but Bruce still was the guy who beat them mercilessly at board games, Dick was still the same person who stole him from the Dursley’s, and Tim was still the one to introduce Harry to all sorts of books and TV. This was still the family that welcomed him with open arms and gave him a home. And, Harry had never really liked normal anyway. The Dursley’s tried so hard to make their family as normal as possible and Harry clearly never fit in there, so it made more sense that anywhere he did fit in had to be very not normal. 

“It’s great,” Harry repeated more firmly, and looked up to Bruce who was wearing that weirdly blank expression again. “You said there was something else.”

 

Bruce nodded sharply, and moved over to stand next to the computer, and began typing rapidly. Tim moved to Harry’s other side and he didn’t seem to know what was going on either, based on his confused look at the computer.

The screen lit up brightly in the dim lighting of the cave, and images began to fill the screen. There were pictures of a figure wearing dark clothes and a bright red helmet decorating the screen. They were blurry, clearly not posed, and Harry wasn’t totally sure if all of them even were the figure since some of them were so dark he could just make out a red spot on the picture.

“Is this that new guy, Red Hood?” Tim asked curiously, and Harry felt a momentary stab of jealousy before he reminded himself that Bruce was telling both him and Tim this. 

“Yes,” Bruce agreed. “He’s been very active for the past month. He had been mostly cleaning up the streets by picking off the more problematic drug dealers and many of the gangs’ leaders.”

“Er, isn’t that a good thing?” Harry asked, because he was pretty sure that’s what Batman did. 

“He’s been killing them,” Tim answered quietly, and yeah Harry saw how that could be a problem. “Really violently.”

Bruce turned to Tim sharply. “I told you not to look at the pictures.” Tim shrugged and Bruce pressed his lips tightly together, but didn’t press the subject any further.

“I talked to him last night,” Bruce said instead. He was looking at the pictures on the screen rather than at either of them. “It was Jason.”

Harry had a horrible thought about how magic worked and people not being dead as they could be. 

“Jason who?” Tim asked slowly. 

“Jason Todd,” Bruce answered, speaking way too calmly about his dead son. 

“Jason’s dead,” Tim responded.

“I’ve met people who were supposed to be dead,” Harry input, but was mostly ignored. Harry found he didn’t mind that too much. He was busy staring at the pictures and trying to pick out the Jason that Dick and Tim talked about.

“I don’t know how, but it was definitely Jason under that mask.”

There was a heavy silence where none of them knew what to say.

“Where’s Dick?” Harry asked.

“Did you tell him?” Tim echoed.

Bruce nodded and Tim breathed out a sigh of relief. “He’s been talking to some people in the league about how this could have happened.”

And wasn’t it strange that apparently Dick was on close enough terms with the Justice League to have conversations with them all about his maybe dead brother. Harry tried not to think too much about it. 

“Are you sure it wasn’t a clone or something?” Tim asked and Harry was worried about how probably that sounded coming out of Tim’s mouth. 

“There are potions that can change people to look like others,” Harry input, and Tim nodded and added “Yeah, or maybe someone’s just a look alike.”

“I thought about that as well,” Bruce told them. “But, beyond the knowledge Red Hood had that no one but Jason could have known, I did some digging.”

“What did you find?”

Bruce wouldn’t look either of them in the eye. “I literally did some digging. Jason’s body is missing. There’s evidence it hasn’t been there in a few months.”

“His body is missing?!” Harry asked because was no one else questioning this. 

“You really think it’s Jason,” Tim said, clearly not a question. Bruce nodded. “Is he okay?” 

“He didn’t give me much time to stop and ask.” Bruce paused. “He’s very angry.”

“At what?” Tim asked, looking back up at the pictures in a new light. 

Bruce shrugged, which was odd. He wasn’t normally the type of person who didn’t know things. “The world, the Joker, me. The list goes on I’m sure.”

They all were silent for a moment, no one knowing what to say to that. 

“Jason’s anger has manifested in some violent ways,” Bruce started and Tim muttered something about heads and duffle bags that Harry didn’t understand, but Bruce talked over him. “He mentioned you, Tim, and I’m worried that he is going to do something rash. You’re already benched until your arm heals, but I want you to stay in the manor or with the Team until we can ascertain if Jason is actually a threat.”

“Jason wouldn’t do that,” Tim said confidently.

Bruce’s expression thawed momentarily, and he looked so broken for a second, Harry wasn’t sure what to do. But, Bruce pulled himself together in just a few seconds. “He isn’t the same. I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore.”

At that, Bruce left the cave, going to the elevator and going back up to the main house. Harry turned to Tim, who was still staring up at the monitor displaying Jason’s, Red Hood’s, image. 

“I didn’t know him very long,” Tim said. “I met him a few times before I moved into the manor. My parents were in similar social circles as Bruce and we had to go to some of the same parties. He was always so cool, but he hung out with me too. He was so much cooler when I figured out he was Robin.”

Harry made a mental note to ask later about how exactly Tim learned about the whole Batman and Robin thing, but he was still talking. 

“When Bruce took me in, Dick and Jason were so great and it made me love being here. I never had siblings before I came here. And now Jason-” Tim’s voice broke and Harry wasn’t sure what came over him, but he thought about what Dick would do. He sat up from the chair and pulled Tim into a hug. Harry wasn’t totally sure he was doing it right, but from the way Tim latched onto his shirt and cried onto his shoulder, he clearly wasn’t messing up. This is what family is. Not perfect or flawless, but just being there for each other.

****************

The next morning, Harry found Bruce sitting at the computer in the Bat cave.

“I want to be Robin too,” Harry informed Bruce. “Well, not Robin. Tim’s Robin. But, I want to help.”

“No,” Bruce answered flatly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said no,” Bruce repeated, not looking up from the computer he was focusing on. “End of discussion.”

Harry went back to the main house and wished it wasn’t an elevator so he could slam the door.

****************

Dick found Harry a few hours later. Harry had taken his broom and was zipping around in the sheltered grounds. The wind in his face was refreshing and the sharp dives and weaving through the tightly packed trees was exhilarating.

Dick caught his attention by waving a lot and climbing halfway up a tree in Harry’s path. Harry let the broom hover in front of the branch Dick was perched on. He looked strangely comfortable for being over thirty feet off the ground.

“I heard what happened between you and Bruce earlier,” Dick started, and Harry flushed.

“Are there no secrets in this house?” Harry huffed and Dick laughed. 

“I thought you didn’t like secrets,” Dick said, then held out a water bottle as a peace offering when Harry glared at him. “Sorry, sorry. Bruce thinks you’re angry and wanted me to talk to you.”

“Did you figure anything out about Jason?” Harry asked instead, steadying his broom with one hand and reaching out to take the water bottle. 

Dick sighed. “There’s a lot of theories running around, but no conclusive evidence, so far. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

Harry wiped his face with his hand. It wasn’t the easiest to drink water while hovering on a broom. “I thought about it last night. You were Robin too? The first Robin?”

Dick nodded slowly, taking the water bottle back from him. “Harry, coming into this house doesn’t mean you have to work with Batman. Bruce took you in, yes, but that’s not why he did it. I wanted to work with Bruce. The first case we did was finding my parent’s murderer. Jason had his own reasons, and he trained for over a year before Bruce let him wear a cape. Tim knew what he was coming into before he came into this house, but that doesn’t change the fact that he decided this was what he wanted.”

“Why can’t I decide that’s what I want?” Harry asked. He just wanted to help. Help this family, help others. Why were they not letting him?

Dick laughed, and Harry thought about hitting him before he worried about over balancing on his broom. “You can if you really want,” Dick started, and Harry looked up in shock. “Hey, let me finish. You need to know what you’re getting into. I had the least amount of formal training before I hit the streets, and it was still a few months. Tim had to wait years before Bruce let him have the mask. He started his training when Jason was Robin, and after Jason was killed, Bruce wasn’t going to let Tim out. But he’s a stubborn kid and trained hard enough that he convinced Bruce he was ready.”

“How’d he do that?” Harry asked.

“He fought Bruce and won, is the short version. You should ask Tim for the long version sometime, it’s impressive,” Dick answered, and Harry was impressed. He hadn’t seen much of them fighting, but from what he had heard of Batman’s fighting skills, it was a bit unbelievable that Tim managed to beat him.

“Wow,” Harry managed to get out, and Dick nodded. 

“Tim’s a talented kid, but even knowing that Bruce still worries,” Dick continued. “So, you, someone who has had no formal self defense training, asking for a position like that scared Bruce. He’s not great with dealing with emotions sometimes.”

Harry got where they were coming from, he really did, but there was one part that didn’t add up. “But I have magic.” He gestured to the broom underneath him. 

Dick took a moment to consider him. “But you’re still in school for that, right? Meaning there’s still a bunch of stuff you need to learn?”

“Yes, but-” Harry started, but Dick cut him off. 

“And if someone took your wand, or it broke, how much magic could you do then?”

Harry looked down at the broom handle, not sure how to answer that. “Some people can do wandless magic.”

“Are you one of them?” Dick asked pointedly and Harry didn’t answer, which seemed to be enough of a response. “I’m not saying this to be mean, Harry. I just don’t want you to be hurt.”

Harry nodded. Great. The one time he tried to do something good and he ended up worrying his whole family. 

“But, I do have a solution for this.” Harry looked up at Dick’s words. “I talked about it with Bruce and he agreed. We think you should start some self defense training and we can see where it goes from there. If you want to be a vigilante, I’m the last person who has the right to stop you, but if it turns out you don’t, then a little training never hurt anyone. Are you okay with that?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Dick smiled, and this time his smile was almost feral. “Excellent. First rule of training,” Dick threw the remaining water in the bottle all over Harry, and Harry spluttered in shock, wiping it out of his eyes. 

“Expect the unexpected!” Dick called as he climbed down the tree. And while he was making his way down the tree, Harry realized that Dick wasn’t actually climbing. He seemed to jump from one branch only to grab onto another and swing from that only to jump to another lower branch. Harry started to feel some apprehension for what he was getting into. 

****************

A few days later, Harry was sitting in a living room, curled up on the couch. Tim was doing something on a laptop on the other couch and was nodding along to the music in his head phones. Bruce and Dick had been in and out, still trying to gather information about Jason, but they hadn’t seemed to find anything. 

Dick had started Harry’s self defense training, because Bruce had been so busy and Tim’s arm was still in a cast. They hadn’t done anything too crazy yet, like jumping off buildings or actually fighting, but Harry had learned a number of things about how to throw a punch without hurting his hand, how to fall properly (which left him sore), and some easy tricks for escaping most holds. Harry also had instructions to work on his cardio and flexibility, which Tim took great pleasure in lecturing him about and correcting his form. All and all it felt like very little and most of Harry’s body hurt. 

“Oh, and I got another letter from Ron,” Hermione said. Harry had kept up calling her, while they didn’t talk every day, they did keep each other pretty updated. It was nice to hear from her over the Summer, and he sort of wished Ron could call too, but the house he was in was too magical and it was much too far for an owl to travel.

“How’s Ron?” Harry asked. It was much easier to talk about Ron’s mysterious living situation now that he had grown more comfortable here.

“He’s doing well, apparently there is a lot of cleaning, which he hates. Ginny sent me a letter too, and it actually sounds like Ron isn’t exaggerating.”

Harry laughed. 

“And Snuffles apparently has offered to once again come to get you if you aren’t happy there,” Hermione continued. “Although I have absolutely no idea how he thinks he could get there. The MACUSA have always had strict policies on foreign Wizards, and I’m sure his fugitive status wouldn’t help.”

“The MACUSA?” Harry questioned, stumbling over the familiar term.

Hermione sighed. “Honestly, Harry, don’t you read? The MACUSA, The Magical Congress of the United States of America. They have a number of policies on foreign guests and wand carrying. The only reason I can think that they didn’t stop you entering was that you’re underage and haven’t done any magic yet. You haven’t done any magic, right?”

“I’ve ridden my broom,” Harry answered. Hermione sighed again and Harry had a feeling that he was going to be lectured. 

“Brooms don’t use your magic, Harry. They’re enchanted when they’re made and fly based on that enchantment. A Wizard may have better control over a broom because they are able to channel their own magic into it, but it would be so minimal, no one would even notice. That’s why old broom’s enchantments can fail and the broom can get slower.”

Harry had already known most of that, he did have multiple books on broom care, and Tim had ridden his broom at one point, but it had been a long time since he had heard her lecture. He almost missed it. 

“Anyway, I picked up a few books on the MACUSA and could send you the information,” Hermione said. “My mum and I are going out, but I could email you later? Do you have an email?”

“Wait, I think Tim made me one of those,” Harry answered then called over to Tim. “Tim do I have an email?”

“HarryP179@gmail.com,” Tim answered without looking up from his laptop. Harry relayed that information to Hermione. 

“That’s great! I’m going to go now, but I’ll get you that information soon!”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said, but she had already hung up.

**************

Hermione had sent fifteen pages of notes. Fifteen pages of neat, typed single spaced notes. Harry appreciated the work put into them, but fifteen pages. He skimmed the first page, which seemed to consist of when the American Wizarding government was founded and how. Trust Hermione to be thorough.

Deciding that dinner had been too long ago and that if he was going to read all this he needed a snack, Harry got up from his bed and made his way into the hallway.

Harry noticed Tim’s door was open, so he went to go see if he wanted anything. Tim was sitting on his bed staring intently at his laptop, and Harry stayed in the doorway which seemed to be the only clean part of the floor. “Tim, I’m going to grab a snack, do you want me to bring you anything.”

Tim didn’t seem to be paying attention, so Harry tried to take a few steps into the room, stepping over two non-matching shoes, a mug that probably had been there since yesterday, a sweatshirt that Harry was pretty sure was Dick’s, and a pillow from his own room that he hadn’t even realized was missing. 

“What are you doing?”

Tim looked up, clearly just noticing Harry. “Oh, hi. When did you get here?”

It reminded Harry of when Hermione was reading a book and got too invested. “Just a second ago. I’m going down to the kitchen, you want anything?” 

“Yeah, I’m really craving orange juice. And chocolate,” Tim answered, going back to focus on his laptop. 

“What are you working on?”

Tim sighed. “There’s a rumor that Joker got out of Arkham again, and I’m not allowed out since my arm is broken. Alfred told me to stop thinking about it, so he locked me out of the Batcomputer. Now I’m using civilian news sources to track their progress.”

Logically Harry knew that Bruce and Dick had fought Joker and a number of others, but still that was kind of terrifying to think about.

“Are they going to be okay?”

Tim looked up. “They should be fine, they do this a lot,” Tim reassured. “But if you get me orange juice, we can see if I can get into the Gotham City surveillance system and we can watch.”

“Are you supposed to do that?”

Tim shrugged but pointed at the door. “Orange juice.”

“And chocolate,” Harry agreed as he walked out, and Tim shouted after him. “Thanks!”

The halls were quiet and dark this time of night. Dick and Bruce were out in the streets of Gotham, and Alfred was down in the cave. There was soft lighting on the walls of the hall, so Harry didn’t feel a need to turn the bright overhead lights on. He was debating if Alfred would notice if he stole some cookies for him and Tim. Alfred would definitely notice, but he may excuse it given the nature of the evening. 

Harry suddenly felt himself be grabbed from behind, one armed wrapped around his arms and chest, another hand covering his mouth. Immediately, Harry started to squirm and try and break free from the unfamiliar grip.

“Calm down, Timmy, this is going to be a lot easier if you don’t panic” An unfamiliar voice mumbled close to his ear. Harry panicked more and thought about Dick’s words on how there were no such thing as dirty tricks when fighting for your life.

“What the fuck? You bit me, asshole! Even through my glove!” The voice was shouting now. Harry took the brief moment of his attacker’s surprise to wrench one of his arms free, and grab his wand from his pocket. He hoped that Tim had heard this guy’s shout and could get help. 

His attacker was stronger and more skilled, however, so before Harry could even think of a spell, nevermind cast it, the wand was plucked from his hand and the arm around Harry’s waist tightened painfully enough to make him gasp and momentarily stop struggling. 

“What did you think you were gonna do with a stick, Tim? Perform a magic spell?” The voice taunted. He waved the wand dramatically and Harry had a moment to thank that this person was clearly a muggle. 

“Bippity boppity boo,” the attacker said overdramatically. Then- “WHAT THE FUCK?” And Harry had to agree with that because suddenly, a tapestry, a rather ugly depiction of a field of flowers, right in front of them had burst into flames. 

“Jason?” Tim’s startled voice came from the end of the hall. “Harry?” Then his voice became sharper as he saw the fire. “Hold on, I’ll get a fire extinguisher!” 

Tim ran off down the way he came, and Harry’s attacker, Jason apparently, seemed to be in a state of shock as he looked down at the wand in his hands. The arm around Harry’s chest had loosened with surprise, so Harry wrenched himself free, then grabbed Jason’s limp arm and pulled him away from the fire he had started, despite the fact it didn’t seem to be spreading. 

Tim raced by with a bright red fire extinguisher and completely doused the ruined tapestry before Jason seemed to be able to speak again. 

Jason was wearing that weird red helmet that covered his entire face, like in the pictures that Bruce showed them. Harry could see at least two guns covered partially by the other boy’s leather jacket, but he didn’t seem dangerous at the moment. He was holding Harry’s wand up to his face, or the weird eyeholes in the helmet, and seemed to be confused. Then, he looked up at Harry, and Harry reflexively took a step back.

“You’re not Tim,” Jason said. And Harry nodded and pointed behind himself where Tim was still holding up the fire extinguisher near the tapestry, just in case it seemed. Tim looked up when he felt the two boys eyes on him, then he smiled and ran over to Jason, surprising both Harry and Jason when he threw his arms around his waist, letting the fire extinguisher hit the ground. 

“I’m really glad you’re not dead,” Tim said into Jason’s chest and Jason looked up at Harry, and Harry couldn’t see the expression under the helmet, but Harry had a feeling it would probably be confused, considering the failed kidnapping that had apparently just happened. 

“Yeah, me too, kid,” Jason answered, patting Tim on the head hesitantly. The hand holding the wand was still hovering awkwardly above Tim’s head. Tim plucked it out of Jason’s lax hand and gave it to Harry. 

“That’s Harry’s,” Tim explained as Jason looked down at him. Or it seemed like his head moved. It was honestly a bit hard to tell under the helmet. Tim seemed to be thinking the same thing, and the kid was a lot braver than Harry, since he reached up behind Jason’s head, and found the catch to get it off, and it came off in his hands.

Harry was surprised to see a red mask, like the ones Dick and Tim wore, under the helmet. Tim gave the mask a strange look, but continued to hug Jason, while Jason looked confused, but not dangerous as he patted Tim on the head. Harry felt awkward as he shifted from foot to foot beside them.

“What the fuck?” Jason asked, more quietly this time, but with a lot of feeling nonetheless. And, honestly, Harry had to agree with that.


	13. Conversations that Never Happen

Harry held his wand tightly. Jason looked much too confused to do anything, but Harry wasn’t going to take any chances. He was debating knocking Jason out, but he was worried it would upset Tim. Tim who was still clutching at Jason’s jacket tightly, as if letting Jason go would allow him to disappear. 

“Master Tim, Master Harry,” Alfred’s voice came down the hall. He still sounded composed and articulate, but there was a hurried quality that Harry had never heard in Alfred’s voice before.

Tim clutched Jason tighter, grabbing fistfuls of his jacket. “We’re up here!” He called. Harry put his wand down, but didn’t put it away.

Alfred arrived only a few seconds after, smoothing a hand down his ruffled jacket. “The outside connection to the Cave was disabled, I was worried-” He stopped. Alfred, armed with a sarcastic quip for all occasions, could not seem to come up with any words for the sight before him.

“Master Jason.” The words were slightly strained.

Jason seemed to regain some functions as he quirked a smile at Alfred. “Hi, Alfred.”

The silence was heavy and uncomfortable, and Harry fought to find something to say. The stillness was broken as Alfred moved from down the hall with long confident strides, making his way to the three boys down the hall. 

“Jason’s back,” Tim said, rather superfluously, but it seemed like something he was more trying to convince himself than anyone else in the room.

“I don’t know about-” Jason started, but he stopped when Alfred wrapped him in his arms. While Alfred was always kind to them, he was rarely that physically affectionate and Jason froze.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Alfred said quietly, and Jason patted him on the back. It was only sort of weird.

The moment was interrupted by a buzzing sound. Alfred pulled out of the hug and pulled an odd looking phone out of his back pocket. Harry recognized it from a few weeks back when a reporter came by while he had been in the kitchen with Alfred. Apparently, when people were down by the main gate there was a buzzer they could press that would alert Alfred to their presence, similar to a doorbell, but less annoying to the majority of the household. The phone also served as an intercom which was used to easily communicate with whoever was at the end of the long driveway without actually having to go down.

Alfred raised an eyebrow before taking a step back from the boys and hitting the intercom button with a prim “Wayne Residence.”

He listened for a moment before saying “One moment please,” muting the call, and turning to the others. 

“There’s two individuals from the Magical Congress of the United States of America. They informed me that an unregistered wand was used in this area, and they need to come investigate.”

“I am so confused,” Jason stated, and Tim reached up to pat him on the shoulder as Harry wished desperately that he had actually had time to do the reading that Hermione sent him. 

“What should we do?” Tim asked. 

“Don’t worry, Tim, I have a plan,” Bruce’s voice came from down the hall. He was dressed very casually and moving with purpose towards them. Dick, shirtless for some reason, was following behind him anxiously.

“Jason?” Dick said hopefully, right before he ran and grabbed him in a hug squishing Tim a little bit, but he didn’t seem to mind. Jason tried to push him away at first, but Dick held on tight.

Bruce looked over at them, smiling briefly, before he grew more serious. “The Wizards have been here for a few minutes. They couldn’t figure out how to work the intercom at first. Tell them we will be down as soon as we can to let them in, that should give us some time.”

Alfred nodded, relaying the message before putting the phone back in his pocket.

“How did you get here so fast?” Tim asked Bruce. 

“We went to Arkham, and it was clear that, despite information indicating otherwise, the Joker was still there and not wrecking havoc on Gotham.” 

Jason shrugged, and Dick finally let him go from his bone crushing hug. “I had to make sure you were out of the house.” He didn’t sound very sorry. 

“Yes, well,” Bruce paused a moment. “That was suspicious, and once the communication to the Cave was cut, we came back as fast as we could. Then Zatanna called a few minutes ago to tell us that her wards were being tested again, and we pulled up the camera to see the Wizards at the gate.” Bruce looked between Harry, Jason, and Tim. “What happened here?”

“How did Jason get through the wards?” Tim wondered out loud rather than answering. 

Bruce waved a hand in disinterest. “The wards have no effect on anyone who doesn’t have magic.”

Tim and Harry exchanged a look, and Tim gestured to Harry to explain. “The Wizards are here because Jason took my wand and used magic.”

Alfred, who had yet to hear of this, had a rare moment of looking shocked, and Dick was looking at Jason like he had never seen him before.

Bruce’s face was set in stone. “That’s not possible. Jason doesn’t have magic.”

“Bruce, are you sure?” Dick said quietly.

“Yes, I had you all tested,” Bruce answered, confidently and straight faced. They all exchanged weirded out looks, but Harry had no doubt that Bruce could have made that happen.

“Ignoring how weird that is,” Jason started. “There was definitely fire that randomly appeared when I waved the stick.”

Bruce thought for a second before nodding decisively. 

“Alfred and I will go let the Wizards in. Harry, go down to the cave, and don’t come out until someone comes to get you, it’s essential no Wizards know your location. The Wand Permit office cannot track which Wizard used the wand, so give it to Jason. From what I have heard, the MACUSA’s records are spotty at best, so we can tell them we thought you were a squib, a magicless child born to magical parents, until now. That will give us an excuse to have previous knowledge about magic, but hopefully also keep us out of legal trouble.”

Bruce paused and looked Jason over. “You’ll need to change. And, Dick I know we were in a rush, but go get a shirt. Grab Jason something from your closet, I doubt his old things will fit.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, old man,” Jason responded, pushing Dick and Tim away and glaring angrily at Bruce. “I just came here to convince Tim that being Robin is too dangerous. I’m not staying.”

Bruce looked like he was about to say something, but Alfred interrupted first. “Master Jason, you will always be a part of this family. No matter where you go, this will always be your home. No matter what happens, we will always be here for you. Now, you will go look presentable for guests. Anything else can be discussed later.”

There was a moment where Harry was a bit afraid that Jason was going to grab his gun or do something equally violent. Instead, he stalked over to Harry, snatched the wand out of his grip, and stomped his way back down the hall towards the bed rooms. Harry was too stunned to stop him, but no one else did either, so Harry assumed it was alright.

“Come on Dickie,” Jason called over his shoulder, and everyone took that as permission to breath. Dick smiled and made to follow Jason. “We all know you’re pretty, but not everyone needs to see that.” When Jason was at the end of the hallway, he turned back towards them, pointing at Bruce accusatorily. “And don’t think we aren’t gonna talk about the fact you took in yet another kid. You have a problem.”

Dick laughed as he pushed Jason towards the bedrooms, and there was a moment of silence before Bruce seemed to shake that off. Tim was trying not to laugh, and even Alfred had a small smile.

“Harry, head downstairs. I don’t want to let them into the wards until you’re down there,” Bruce said. 

Harry wanted to tell him that he could help, that he should be there because it was partially his fault. But, Bruce definitely had this handled, and it was nice to not have to worry about it. So, Harry went down into the cave and let Bruce fix it.

**********

Harry wished that he could log into the computer down here, because he knew there were cameras he could have watched what was happening on. But, instead he sat down in the chair in front of it, and spun in it until he felt a bit woozy. 

Dick came down twenty minutes later, and he seemed to have good news. Harry got up out of the chair and made his way over to the elevator where Dick was holding the door open.

“What happened?” Harry asked. “Is everyone okay?”

Dick laughed. “Yeah, everyone’s fine. Alfred’s leading them back down the driveway, and the rest are in Bruce’s office.”

“And they believed the whole thing with Jason?” Harry asked as the elevator went up.

“Yup. They didn’t seem too thrilled about having to do a house call, and wanted to get out as soon as possible, so they were thrilled that they just had to register a wand. Bruce had to spin some lie about how the wand got there without being registered in the American system, but they didn’t check anything too closely.”

“That’s good.”

They got off the elevator, and Harry found everyone was sitting in the office in front of them. They were spread out over the couches in the library side, with Jason and Tim sharing a couch and Bruce sitting in an armchair. 

The mask was of Jason’s face now, and, he had changed. He looked much more like a teenager about Harry’s age when he was dressed in the casual t-shirt and jeans, rather than the bulky leather jacket and enough guns to take out a small army.

Harry followed Dick to the other couch across from the other, and Jason was staring at Harry.

“So, Henry.”

“Harry,” Tim corrected promptly.

“Harry,” Jason amended, looking a bit apologetic. “You are a new level of weird for this family.”

Harry wasn’t sure if that was an insult. “Er, thank you?”

Jason laughed and tossed the wand back, which Harry caught easily. Quidditch had its uses. 

“Jason stop ignoring my question,” Bruce said. Jason ignored him and continued to talk to Harry.

“So, you’re Dick’s cousin?”

Harry shrugged. “Basically.”

“Jason.” Bruce did not sound happy.

“I heard you had some shit relatives,” Jason said instead. “I have some experience with that. It sucks.”

“Jason.”

“Relax Bruce, I wasn’t actually talking about you,” Jason answered, waving him off.

Bruce took a deep breath. “Thank you. But, Jason we do actually need to talk about how you came back from the dead.”

“So, the ‘Magic Police’ said I need to go to a magical school and ‘learn to control my power’ or whatever. Got any recommendations?” This time Jason actually succeeded in derailing the conversation.

“You can come to Hogwarts with me,” Harry said, and Tim nodded, while Jason made a rude comment about the name Hogwarts.

“You will not be returning to Hogwarts,” Bruce informed Harry, and it was much too calm to feel like a punch in the stomach, but Harry felt all the breath leave him. The Manor was nice and Harry really liked the people here, but Hogwarts was the first home he had ever know. The first place he felt like he really belonged. 

“I think Bruce is just thinking about how dangerous the past four years have been for you!” Dick interjected. 

“Almost dying multiple times at a school that is supposed to be safe does not give you a good reason to want to go back,” Bruce said firmly. “I would be much happier if you and Jason went to Ilvermorny. It’s much closer and safer. Or we could even get a tutor, the officers did mention that homeschooling was possible.”

“Actually, I want to go to Hogwarts too,” Jason interjected, and Harry turned to stare at him, as did all the others. He was smiling wickedly. 

“Jason, you have no idea what that is,” Tim said incredulously. “You literally just learned you were a wizard like an hour ago.”

“I know I want to go to Hogwarts,” Jason insisted, and smiled wider as Bruce rubbed his temples.

Bruce sighed. “We will talk about this later.” Which wasn’t a no, so Harry was counting that as a win, and if Jason’s grin was any indication, he was as well.

Hogwarts was certainly going to be interesting next year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few announcements:
> 
> 1) Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, commented, favorited, followed, bookmarked, and/or left kudos. I truly appreciate each of you, and your support has kept me going. Thank you all :)
> 
> 2) This is the last chapter of “A Wizard Among Bats” but there will be a sequel!
> 
> 3) Before that sequel comes out, I will be going and completely editing this fic. I started this fic over two years ago and, god, it very clearly shows. Nothing big will change (hopefully), but things will hopefully be better. Like spelling. That needs to improve.
> 
> 4) I also hope to write the entire sequel before posting. This may not happen, because I love validation while writing, but I like the idea of getting the whole thing written first and hope to do it. I’ve learned a lot recently about how helpful it is to be able to edit earlier chapters to fit a new plan.
> 
> 5) I have plans for this to be a long series, so I hope you all are ready! 
> 
> Once again, thank you all for reading and supporting me!


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